


One Black Coffee

by bookwyrrm



Category: Cats (1998), Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 39,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23068450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrrm/pseuds/bookwyrrm
Summary: Everyone is human, and they all have a lot of feelings. Or: The coffee shop AU you've been waiting for.
Relationships: Alonzo/Cassandra (Cats), Bombalurina/Rum Tum Tugger, Demeter/Munkustrap (Cats), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Plato/Victoria (Cats)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 43





	1. New Friends

“That’s a lot of coffee for one person. You know, I’m not even sure if I can sell you that much.” 

Munkustrap blinked awake. “What?” 

The barista arched one perfectly-sculpted eyebrow. “Yeah. At this point, I think I’m legally required to stage an intervention.” 

Right. It was 6:30 on a Sunday morning, and he had just given his coffee order to the snarky barista before his mind zoned out. 

Munkustrap was in no mood to make small talk. He held out his credit card. “It’s not for me.” 

The woman behind the counter rolled her eyes and swiped his card, handing a copy of his receipt to her co-worker, who started to make the drinks. Munkustrap was wondering whether they would mind if he took a quick nap at one of the little tables lining the opposite wall when the bell above the door rang. 

“What’s taking so long?” A familiar voice asked. 

Munkustrap turned around to frown at his brother. “I thought you said you wanted to wait in the car.” 

Tugger grimaced at him. “That was before I knew it was gonna take two hours…” he caught sight of the women working and his tone quickly changed to a sultry drawl, “Or that our drinks would be made by some very pretty ladies.” 

A spark of interest crossed the barista’s face, but her companion making the drinks scoffed loudly. 

Tugger focused his attention on the barista who seemed to be falling for his charms. “People call me the Rum Tum Tugger. _Very_ pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

“Bombalurina, and likewise.” She held out her hand to Tugger, who kissed the back of it. 

“Are you new in town, Bombalurina? I think I would remember seeing a pretty face like yours before.” 

She smiled at him. “Well, you’re seeing me now. My sister and I just moved here about two months ago.” 

“This is horrifying,” Munkustrap said, but the pair flirting by the register didn’t seem to hear him. 

“In that case, you should let me show you around town sometime. I know all the best spots to… hang out.” 

The woman who Bombalurina had indicated as her sister let out a derisive laugh. 

Munkustrap went to stand by the place on the counter where his drinks would come out, wanting both to put distance between him and the way Tugger was batting his eyelashes and to be nearer to someone who clearly shared his own sentiments. 

Bombalurina’s sister never stopped working, although once at a particularly sappy pick-up line her sister used, she turned around and made a disgusted face at Munkustrap, who had to cough to hide his laugh. It was oddly hypnotic, watching the steadiness of her hands mixing each drink. 

Finally, she turned around and set the tray of drinks in front of him. “Okay. One green tea, one cappuccino, one vanilla frap, two hot chocolates -- one large, one small -- and one black coffee.” 

“Perfect, thank you.” Looking at the barista’s face, the resemblance between her and Bombalurina was clear, although this woman was a head shorter and her hair much lighter. 

“Going to a meeting or something? We don’t often get this big of an order.” 

“No, uh, my little brother’s hockey game. We usually order from Eliot’s, but there was an accident with the coffee creamers and they’ve asked us to give their chain a wide berth.” 

She laughed quietly and leaned against the counter. “Well, thanks for giving us a shot. It’s always pretty slow in here, so your huge order was exciting.” 

Munkustrap smiled and looked over at the register, where his brother was still putting the moves on Bombalurina, although she seemed to be enjoying it. He checked his watch, deciding that they could waste a couple more minutes here. It had been a while since Tugger had a girlfriend. 

The other barista copied his glance. Her voice was heavy with sarcasm as she said, “Oh, look, they’re exchanging phone numbers now.” 

“Yeah, you should be careful not to look at any images he’s sent her for at least a week.” 

“Shit, yeah. I’m Demeter, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you,” he said, and meant it. “Munkustrap.” 

“I know.” At his quizzical look, Demeter laughed and showed him the piece of paper she had been consulting as she made his order. “Your name’s on the bill.” 

The receipt read MUNKOSTRAP. “Oh, come on. That’s not how it’s spelled!” 

“Hey, man, we’ve gotta go,” Tugger called. “Misto will kill us if his drink gets cold.” 

Munkustrap checked the time and realized that his brother was right. “Here, help me carry this.” 

Tugger sauntered over and picked up his frappuccino, leaving a space in the drink tray for Munkustrap to put his coffee. “See you around, Bombalurina and girl whose name I didn’t get.” 

Munkustrap rolled his eyes, but Bombalurina only wiggled her fingers at them. “Come back soon and bring your fancy credit card!” 

“I’m driving,” Tugger said as soon as they were out on the sidewalk. He bounded around the car. “I called it!” 

“You’re such a child,” Munkustrap said, but he got into the passenger seat all the same. 

“You could stand to be more of a child sometimes,” Tugger retorted. “Hey, that place is cute! I haven’t been there in years, but it looks totally different from how I remember it.” 

Munkustrap agreed absentmindedly, looking back into the coffee shop through his window. Demeter was watching them, and as they pulled away, she gave him a slight wave. 

Jennyanydots was puttering around the kitchen when the girls got home. Demeter debated whether to head upstairs to avoid a conversation with the woman they were renting rooms from, but eventually her growling stomach won out, and she followed her sister to the kitchen. They both liked Jenny, but you could never tell how long talking to her would take. Depending on the older woman’s mood, you could spend twenty minutes with her or an hour. 

“Hi, girls,” Jenny said, busy packing a tote bag with her craft supplies. “How was work?” 

“The usual.” Demeter reached into a cabinet for the peanut butter. “Jemima’s there now for a few hours, then I’m heading back.” 

“You two did such a good job with her hair! Have you ever considered cosmetology school, Bombalurina?” 

“A little,” Bomba confessed. “But I would need to save up money first.” 

Besides Demeter and Bombularina, Jemima was the other boarder currently renting a room with Jenny and her two children. Demeter didn’t know Jemima’s whole story -- something about a foster father who traveled a lot -- but she was a sweet kid currently going to college in the next town over. A few nights ago, Bombalurina had cut her hair into short spikes that framed her face while Demeter helped to dye it black. Changing their hair color had been an easy way for the sisters to bond and take some control over their lives in high school. Even now, Bombalurina’s ponytail was currently a dark red instead of her natural brown. 

Jennyanydots pulled a tray out of the oven and the smell of home-baked goods filled the air. 

Bombalurina’s eyes went wide. “Did you make cookies?” 

Jenny whacked her reaching hand lightly with the oven mitt. “They’re not for you, dear. They’re for the Heaviside youth group, and a few are for Bustopher Jones.” 

Demeter looked up from her sandwich to marvel at the blush rising on Jenny’s face. She teased, “Who’s Bustopher Jones? Hot date?” 

“Oh, you. Bustopher is a good friend of mine, that’s all. He drives me to the city each week for youth group.” 

Bombalurina turned around to wiggle her eyebrows at Demeter. 

The doorbell rang, and Jenny hastily ran her fingers through her hair. “Oh, he’s here! Bye, girls!” 

Demeter and Bombalurina looked at each other. As soon as the front door closed, they raced to the front windows to get a look at the large man who was gallantly escorting Jenny down the stairs. 

“I like his white pants,” Bombalurina said. “Very stylish.” 

“Can you imagine if Jennyanydots gets a boyfriend?” Demeter whispered. “What if he moves in, too?” 

“You’re not my dad!” Bomba said, imitating a surly teenager. 

The girls giggled. 

“What are you guys whispering about?” 

They whirled around to find one of the surly teenagers in question standing behind them. Looking confused, Electra waited for a response. 

“Oh, nothing,” Bombalurina said. “We, um, thought we saw a spider on this window.” 

“I have a sandwich to finish.” Demeter pointed in the general direction of the kitchen. “So…” 

Making their excuses, the sisters quickly went their separate ways. 

Electra peered at the window pane. “I don’t see any spiders.” 

Munkustrap and Tugger came back to _Roasted Memories_ next Sunday, as well. Tugger would flirt with Bombalurina while Munkustrap and Demeter made awkward conversation. After a couple of weeks, however, it ceased to be a struggle to find things to talk about, especially when they learned that the girls were Jenny’s new boarders. The families were old friends, so Munkustrap had plenty of stories to share about Jennyanydots’ son causing trouble. Apparently, Tumblebrutus took sadistic joy in making Munkustrap’s life as stressful as possible. 

Soon, his time at the sleepy little cafe began to be the highlight of his week, and so Munkustrap started to come in more often before work -- once in the middle of the week, then twice a week, until eventually he was there briefly almost every day. 

“I think you’re good for business,” Bombalurina told Munkustrap one day. “We’ve actually started to get customers, for once.” 

Munkustrap winced. “Yeah. The previous owner didn’t leave town on the best of terms, so I think people were… avoiding her shop. But Tugger and I have been letting them know that she doesn’t work here anymore. I’m glad to see that business is picking up.” 

“You two have that much power?” Bombalurina handed him his receipt. Today she had spelled his name as MUNKOSTROP. 

He gave her a disappointed look. “Jellicle is a small enough town that most of the families know each other. It was easy enough to spread the word.” 

Demeter looked up from the latte that she was making. “Is that why people have started smiling at us on the street? It’s a little weird.” 

“Maybe? I definitely didn’t tell them to do that.” Munkustrap moved down the line to wait next to Demeter’s counter. 

“Yeah, or we’re the latest victims in this town’s murder cult,” Bombalurina groused as she started to take the next customer’s order. “Just imagine, they all get together once a year to sacrifice the newcomers -- which is us!” 

“You need to stop watching _Children of the Corn_ before bed,” Demeter said. “Vanilla latte for Exotica?” 

Exotica came to take her drink, and Demeter handed Munkustrap his cup. “One black coffee. Easiest order ever.”

He smiled at her. 

Demeter leaned casually against the counter. “Hey, you should come by tomorrow morning. I’m opening by myself, and I could use the company.” 

Munkustrap blinked, flattered that she would ask him to come just to hang out. “Okay.” 

“Yeah?” A smile tugged at Demeter’s mouth, and she bit her bottom lip to keep it from escaping. 

“Yeah! Um, I have to go. Work.” 

“Right!” Demeter straightened up and moved back a little, glancing over to where her customer was waiting. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you then.” 

Demeter was already inside when Munkustrap got to the coffee shop. She greeted him with a quiet smile, which he returned with a nod, both of them still waking up and not in the mood for conversation just yet. 

They worked separately for a little while. Demeter hummed to herself as she ground coffee beans and set up other things for the day, and Munkustrap worked out the week’s schedule in his planner. Victoria had a ballet recital this week, and he needed to make sure she had a ride there and back. Mistoffelees had said he could take her, but that was before he had realized he had a meeting with his magic club. 

Old Deuteronomy could drive her there on his way to play cards with Gus, and Munkustrap could probably ask Jellylorum if Victoria could carpool with her and Etcetera after the recital was done. 

He checked that off of his to-do list, and realized that Demeter was watching him. 

“Are you doing math problems over there?” 

Munkustrap smiled at her. “Something like that.” 

“Thanks for getting up early today. This really is incredibly boring when you’re alone.” 

“I can imagine. Which do you prefer, opening or closing?” At her surprised look, he continued, “I worked at Growltiger’s Pizza in high school, and having to shut the place down every night was the worst part of my job.” 

“I get that.” Demeter came out from behind the counter and sat down at the table with him. “I don’t like closing, either. This place gets creepy after dark.” 

The bell above the door jingled as two people walked in, but Demeter didn’t move. “Sorry, we’re not open for another ten minutes.” 

“Demeter?” The man said. “It really _is_ you!” 

Demeter whirled around. “What are you doing here?” 

Munkustrap glanced up at her. Demeter was smiling slightly, but she still looked wary. He looked back at the two newcomers, who were wearing identical pin-striped suits.

“We’re here for some coffee, aren’t we? Oh, wait, Mungojerrie!” The woman said. 

“Yes, Teazer?” 

“We must’ve walked into the wrong shop by accident!” 

The man looked around exaggeratedly. “Now that you mention it, this _is_ the wrong shop! This is clearly a home goods supply store, not a coffee shop!” 

The two finished their bit and turned back to Demeter, grinning widely. 

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll make you some coffee, but only so you leave -- Hey, I saw that!” 

The suited woman sheepishly put two coffee creamers back in their bin. Munkustrap’s jaw dropped, amazed that he hadn’t even noticed her take them. 

“Munkustrap?” Demeter asked. “I need you to watch these two like a hawk while my back is turned. Don’t take your eyes off of them for a second.” 

He saluted her. “Got it.” 

“Hey,” the man complained as Demeter went behind the counter, “You didn’t even take our order!” 

“You’re getting black,” she snapped. 

“My God, Jerrie, you are!” The woman held up her brother’s arm in shock. “Must’ve stayed out in the sun too long.” 

Demeter groaned. “I’ll tell you right now that this place doesn’t have anything to rob. We don’t even have an espresso machine.” 

The pair gasped dramatically. 

“I am shocked--” 

“Shocked!” 

“-- that you would accuse us of that.” The man grinned. “We’re retired, you know.” 

“That’s right. We’ve got a legitimate profession. We’re used car salesmen now!” 

“Say there, what’s your name?” 

Munkustrap suddenly found two grinning faces shoved into his personal space. “Uh, Munkustrap.” 

“Well, Uh Munkustrap, my name’s Mungojerrie. And this here is my sister, Rumpleteazer.” 

Rumpleteazer said, “You look like a man who could use a new car. We’ve got just the thing -- it’s a beauty! Owned by a little old lady who only drove it to church and back once a week.” 

Demeter interrupted. “He doesn’t need a car.” 

“I think we should let the handsome gentleman speak for himself.” Rumpleteazer winked. 

“Sorry,” Munkustrap said. He stood and gently removed their hands from his shoulders. “I already have a car. Also, I’m not that gullible.” 

Demeter smiled proudly. “Your coffee’s ready, darlings.” 

Munkustrap put his hands on their backs and escorted them to the counter. 

“Aw, poop,” Rumpleteazer said. She stuck her tongue out at Demeter. “You were never any fun.” 

The wary look was back on Demeter’s face. She picked nervously at her apron and lowered her voice. “So, how exactly did you two find out I worked here?” 

“We were on our way to pick up a client’s car when we saw you through the window,” Mungojerrie replied. His voice was also soft. “Don’t worry, _he_ doesn’t know.” 

Rumpleteazer added, “Yeah, we don’t run with _him_ no more. And even if we did, we wouldn’t rat you out.” 

Demeter exhaled loudly. “Thanks, guys.” 

There was a sudden crash, and Munkustrap realized that he had been so focused on Demeter that he had taken his eyes off of the two people in front of him. 

Rumpleteazer quickly pointed at her brother. “It was Mungojerrie!” 

Mungojerrie protested, “No, it was Rumpleteazer!” 

Demeter put her head in her hands. “I don’t care who did it. Give me twenty dollars and I won’t call the cops.” 

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer hastily obeyed, although they had to search their various pockets to come up with enough money between them. They took their coffees and backed out. 

“Lovely meeting you, Munkustrap!” Rumpleteazer blew him a kiss. 

“Next time we’re in the neighborhood, Demeter, we’ll come back and see you! We know you miss us!” 

“Please don’t!” Demeter called, but they were gone. 

“Friends of yours?” Munkustrap asked, trying very hard not to laugh. 

She made a face. “Acquaintances. Would you mind telling me what they broke?” 

“Looks like a mug. Are they always so…?”

Demeter laughed and headed to the backroom. “Yes. You got off easy, believe me.”

“Hey, Demeter?” Munkustrap wanted to ask who the ‘ _he_ ’ they had been talking about was. 

She emerged holding a dustpan and broom. “What’s up?” 

The morning sun coming in through the windows lit up her blond hair like a halo. She cocked her head, waiting for his question. He couldn’t ruin her morning by dredging up the past, not when she looked so peaceful. 

He forced a smile. “At least today wasn’t boring.” 

Tugger sashayed his way into the coffee shop one Friday afternoon, blowing a kiss to Jemima, who was just finishing her shift. She giggled. 

“What do you want?” Demeter said. 

“Ouch. Do you greet all your customers like that, Didi?” 

“My name is Demeter.” 

“I don’t mind nicknames, Tugger,” Jemima said, pausing on her way out the door. 

Tugger didn’t seem to notice Demeter’s glare or Jemima’s wide-eyed gaze. “Hey, is your sister here?” 

“I’m here!” Bombalurina called, hurrying out from the back. “I had to get my gloves on.” 

Tugger grinned. “Food safety looks so sexy on you, baby.” 

Jemima sighed and left. 

“I have an invitation for you. For both of you, actually.” 

Demeter’s eyebrows shot up. “This better not be going where I think it is.” 

“Relax, Didi, not that kind of invitation. Victoria is bringing her boyfriend over for dinner tomorrow and we were thinking of making it a party. My dad really wants to meet the two of you.” 

The girls looked at each other warily. 

“Oh, come on,” Tugger begged. “Mistofelees is making a chicken.” 

Demeter shrugged at Bombalurina. _Your call._

Bomba smiled. “We’ll be there.” 

“This was a bad idea,” Demeter moaned. She adjusted the straps of her dress.“It’s going to be awful, we should never have agreed to this.” 

“Relax,” her sister urged. “You look hot.” 

“I know,” Demeter said sadly. 

They were crowded into Jennyanydots’ bathroom, both craning their necks around the figure out a way to share the mirror. As the hour of the party ticked ever closer, Demeter’s nerves rose. 

“It’ll be fine. We’ll have dinner, stay for a couple of hours, and then dip.” Bombalurina put down the mascara wand as something occurred to her. “Hey, do you think we have to bring something?” 

Demeter looked at her, panic in her eyes. “Shit.” 

“Okay, okay, think. What do people bring to dinner parties?” Bombalurina typed her question into her phone and read out the results. “Wine.” 

“Too expensive.” 

“Flowers? No, that’s dumb. This list isn’t helpful. Oh, what about cheese?” 

“Cheese?” Demeter asked skeptically. 

“Yeah, like a cheese platter! That’s a thing, right?” 

“We don’t know what kind of cheese they like.” 

“You’re right. Crap.” 

“Chocolates?” 

Bombalurina made a face. “If you give someone chocolates, it says that you couldn’t think of anything else to give them. That’s tacky, I don’t want to do that.” 

“Hi!” The girls chorused as Munkustrap opened the door. 

Bombalurina smiled and extended the box in her hands to him. “We brought chocolates!” 

“Thanks so much. But you didn’t have to bring anything.” 

The sisters glanced at each other quickly. 

Demeter said, “Oh, we just wanted to.” 

“Yep,” Bombalurina agreed hastily. “Out of the goodness of our hearts, and all that.” 

“Well, that’s very kind.” Munkustrap realized that they were still standing in the doorway and hastened to step back. “Come on in!” 

He kissed both of their cheeks as they entered, then said into Demeter’s ear, “Thank God you’re here. This has turned into a meeting of the Tugger Fan Club.” 

“Does he really have a fan club?” Demeter asked, keeping her voice low to match his. 

Munkustrap smiled at her. “I was being hyperbolic, but yes, he does. You can order their shirts online.” 

“Wow,” Demeter mused. “Hey, on an unrelated note, I just thought of the perfect birthday gift for you.” 

That startled a loud laugh out of him, and he saw his family’s heads turn in interest. Munkustrap led the way into the den. The girls followed him nervously. “Everyone, this is Demeter and Bombalurina. They’re the ones who have been making your Sunday morning drinks.” 

Victoria stood up and made her way over, signing excitedly. 

Munkustrap interpreted for her. “Hi, I’m Victoria. I love the way you guys make your hot chocolate. It’s so good.” 

“Hi, Victoria,” Bombalurina said, then she glanced at Munkustrap. “Um, do I need to--”

But Victoria was already shaking her head. 

“She can read lips really well,” said Mistoffelees, lounging on the couch. “So you can speak normally, and if she needs you to repeat something she’ll ask you to.” 

“Cool,” Bombalurina said. 

Victoria shook Bomba’s hand between both of her own, then did the same to Demeter, who smiled shyly. 

The rest of the introductions went smoothly. Demeter showed interest in Mistofelees’ magic, earning her way forever into his good graces. George was timid on a good day, and the sudden presence of two pretty girls seemed to have overwhelmed him too much to do more than mutter a hello. Plato stood with his arms around Victoria’s waist, and although he was polite, the two were more interested in each other than anyone else. 

Munkustrap looked around. “Where’s Dad and--?”

“You guys talking about me?” Tugger popped up seemingly out of thin air, making Demeter jump violently. 

Bombalurina put an arm around her sister and frowned at Tugger. 

“Where’s Old Deuteronomy?” Munkustrap asked his brother. 

“Taking a nap upstairs.” Tugger shrugged. “He’ll come down when he’s ready. You guys want something to drink?” 

“I’ll take something,” Plato called from the couch. 

Munkustrap raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ll take nothing.” Plato shrunk down in his seat. “Never mind.” 

“Okay, that kid’s definitely old enough to drink,” Bombalurina said as they followed Tugger to the kitchen. “What’s your deal, Munk? You don’t approve of him?” 

“It’s not that I don’t _approve_ of him. I like Plato a lot. He plays hockey with George, so we’ve known his family for a long time.” 

Tugger held up two bottles of wine for Bombalurina’s inspection. She pointed to the white and gestured for Munkustrap to keep talking. “So, what’s the problem?” 

Munkustrap checked that the trio in the living room were out of earshot, then murmured, “They just moved incredibly fast, that’s all. I think it’s fair to be a little wary. I mean, I don’t know that Victoria has ever had a serious boyfriend before.”

“Oh, no, she did.” Tugger hopped up onto the counter. “Remember, in her freshman year of college. She dated what’s-his-name, the carnival barker.” 

“The _carnival barker_?” Munkustrap asked, horrified. “Why didn’t I know about this?” 

Tugger chuckled darkly. “Because she knew you wouldn’t like him.” 

“If it helps, Plato seems nice enough. I think he really cares about your sister.” Demeter dropped her eyes down to the floor. “Although I don’t have the best track record with this sort of thing.” 

Bombalurina laughed. “She really doesn’t. Demeter’s first boyfriend--”

“Hey, whoa!” Demeter said, alarm darting across her features. 

“What? Oh, no, I wasn’t going to tell them about…” Bombalurina made a vague gesture with her hand. “I meant before.” 

“Oh.” Demeter laughed. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

“I think we should have a secret language like that,” Tugger said to Munkustrap. 

“I don’t like you enough to want to have a secret language with you,” Munkustrap joked, and promptly got smacked in the head for his trouble. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Bombalurina said. “Demeter’s first boyfriend was in a band. What was it called again?” 

Demeter winced. “There’s No Such Thing As Milk.” 

“Did he know that there is such a thing?” Tugger guffawed. 

“Apparently not. Well, he wrote a song about her -- and let me tell you, it was a really bad song -- in which he simultaneously compared her to his mother and complained that she wouldn’t give him a blowjob.” 

“No.” Munkustrap said. 

“Yep. Performed live in front of the whole school.” Demeter smiled sardonically.

“Jesus Christ,” Tugger said. “And you thought I was badly behaved.” 

“Oh, it’s okay. Bombalurina and I smashed his windshield in with a baseball bat.” 

There was a brief silence. 

“Well, remind me to stay on your good side.” Tugger gave Demeter a high five. 

Heavy footsteps made their way downstairs, and Mistoffelees jumped up to help his foster father down the last few steps. 

“How’s your chicken cooking, Mistoffelees?” Old Deuteronomy said as he made his way into the kitchen. 

“It’s got one more minute,” the younger son said proudly. “I think you’re going to like it -- Bustopher Jones gave me the recipe.” 

“Well then, I know it’ll be delicious,” Old Deuteronomy smiled. 

Munkustrap went to his father’s side. “Dad, I want you to meet Demeter and Bombalurina. They’re running _Roasted Memories_ now.” 

His father shook their hands. “It’s very nice to meet you both. You’ll have to forgive me for not being downstairs to greet you earlier -- sometimes these old bones need a short rest after a day of work.” 

“Where do you work?” Bombalurina asked curiously, taking on “Sir?” as an afterthought. “I don’t think your sons have mentioned it.” 

“Oh, I run the general store. Mostly doing paperwork these days, I’m afraid. It’s a family business, my father had it before me.” 

Munkustrap saw the girls’ eyes flicker to him and away. Eager to change the subject from the store, he added, “But he was Mayor for a long time too, weren’t you, Dad?” 

“Ah, yes.” Old Deuteronomy laughed. “My sons love to brag about me.” 

The oven alarm beeped, and Mistoffelees scurried into the kitchen. “My chicken! Everyone out, I need to work!” 

“Do you need any help?” Demeter asked, clearly wanting to be out from Old Deuteronomy’s benevolent scrutiny. 

“Absolutely not,” Misto said, “and if you try to help, I will stab you with this meat thermometer.” 

Demeter laughed, then shrunk in on herself when she noticed they were watching her.

“Would you two like to come sit with me in the living room before dinner?” Old Deuteronomy asked. 

Bombalurina took Demeter’s hand and squeezed. “That sounds great. Right, Deme?” 

She took a deep breath. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

Munkustrap gave them two thumbs-up in support. He had no doubt that Old Deuteronomy would soon put them at ease. One of his dad’s best qualities was the familial warmth he wore like a cloak, and his ability to make complete strangers feel like they had known him all their lives. 

As they walked away, Old Deuteronomy continued, “I confess that I had heard your names before. Jennyanydots has been singing your praises for months now.”

“Really?” Bombalurina said. 

“Oh, yes! She especially told me how grateful and happy she is about the way you two have been acting as big sisters to Electra and Jemima.” 

“Oh,” Demeter said faintly, and Munkustrap saw her start to smile. 

After the chicken had been received and devoured with general delight and the table cleared, Demeter stood alone watching her sister lose at Charades. It had been pitched as a large group game, but no one seemed to mind that she had opted to just watch. George had also apparently had enough social interaction and was leaning against his father’s legs, reading a book. 

It was surprisingly easy, fitting into this family. For all of their different personalities, they had clearly grown up watching Old Deuteronomy win over people’s hearts, so they knew how to function as a unit. She and Bombalurina functioned that way, too, to a certain extent, but it had always been them against the world. Demeter wondered how they would have turned out differently if they had had the privilege of having a whole community as their family the way that the town of Jellicle had each other. 

She felt a light touch on her arm -- Munkustrap warning her of his presence. She smiled at him briefly before looking back at the game before her. Mistoffelees was pantomiming something while Bombalurina watched, baffled. 

Munkustrap said, “Is he being Mickey Mouse?” 

Demeter frowned. “I don’t think so. Maybe an elephant wearing ice skates?” 

“Oh, wait! Elvis doing ballet!” 

Bombalurina turned around, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “If you two are going to guess, then you need to join a team.” 

“Hey, focus!” Mistoffelees told Bombalurina. 

“You’re not allowed to talk when you’re acting out a clue,” Plato said. 

Old Deuteronomy called, “Time’s up!” 

Mistoffelees deflated. “It was a lightning storm. I was being a lightning storm.” 

There was a general outcry from the group seated in the living room, and Munkustrap chuckled. “This always happens. My family is very competitive.” 

“I think they’re wonderful,” Demeter said, and blushed when she realized that she had spoken the words aloud instead of merely thinking them. 

“Me too,” Munkustrap said. “You look nice, by the way. I like your dress.” 

Demeter turned to look at him, and his eyes jumped guiltily back up to hers. She smirked, suddenly glad she had let Bombalurina talk her into wearing their matching black dresses tonight. Flirting, at least, was solid ground to stand on, and it was also something that Demeter was _very_ good at. 

“Thanks.” She reached out to rub the gray wool covering his arm. “I like your sweater.” 

Munkustrap said, “I’m glad you and Bombalurina moved here those months ago.” 

She smiled. “Really?” 

“Of course.” He looked genuinely surprised that she would doubt him. “I don’t know how long you’re planning on staying, but you’ve definitely changed all our lives for the better. This town is lucky to have you two here.” 

The ground disappeared beneath Demeter’s feet. She stammered out, “Thank you,” and Munkustrap nodded matter-of-factly, like he hadn’t just plunged her into the murky depths of the ocean. He walked away to join the game, leaving her staring after him. 

For the next few days, Demeter avoided Munkustrap as much as she could. There was nothing she could do to stop him from coming in to order coffee, but she could pretend to be busy with another customer when he came in or suddenly remember that she had to get something from the back. But try as she might, he would still smile at her every time he ordered his one black coffee, or linger by the pick-up counter and ask how her shift was going, and Demeter would suddenly find herself blushing and unable to form a full sentence. 

So, when Bombalurina asked her to go to a club in Heaviside for one of Tugger’s live shows, she jumped at the chance to get out of Jellicle for a couple of hours. The club was small but crowded, mostly with excited young women. Demeter suddenly understood what going to an Elvis concert must have been like. She felt very old. 

“I didn’t know that DJ’s did live shows,” she said to her sister. 

“He prefers the term ‘radio personality,’” Bombalurina replied. “Honestly, I’m only going to this because I’m planning to break up with him soon.” 

Demeter turned to stare at her sister in surprise, and almost tripped over the person in front of her. “What? Why? I thought you guys were getting along well!” 

“Yeah, we are.” Bomba shrugged. “I just don’t think I’m a relationship kind of girl. I mean, the sex is great, don’t get me wrong--” 

“Thank you, I didn’t need to know that.” 

“-- but I don’t want to tie myself down to one person right now. After all, there’s a whole town to work through.” She grinned wickedly. 

A voice echoed through the club, and the lights went down. “Ladies and gentlemen and people of all ages! He’s the king of the stations! The wizard of the air waves! Please put your hands together… and raise your voices for… the Rum Tum Tugger!” 

A guitar intro blasted through the speakers, and the crowd screamed. 

Demeter groaned. “Oh, this is going to be bad.” 

“Probably,” Bombalurina said happily. “But he invited us, so wave at the stage and smile like you’re excited.” 

As it turned out, the show was better than Demeter had expected. A live radio show consisted of Tugger playing his classic rock set list and lip synching along while he strutted around the stage. In between songs, he recorded his announcements into a microphone, plying the crowd with trivia questions and telling them fun facts about the next song (some of which Demeter was pretty sure he was making up on the spot). She had to admit that he was a good performer, especially when she had a drink in her hand and didn’t have to look at the way he kept gyrating at the audience. 

Someone yelled her name, and Demeter suddenly found herself surrounded by a familiar group of gigglers. Victoria gave her a hug, which Demeter returned, only to frown when she saw Jennyanydots’ daughter among the crowd of girls who had surrounded her. 

“What are you doing here?” She demanded. “You’re not twenty-one yet.” 

Electra shrugged. “Tugger slipped me in.” 

Any begrudging respect Demeter had been building up for Tugger vanished. 

“It’s not a big deal!” Electra hastened to say. “We’ve gone to his shows before, and I haven’t been drinking anything.” 

“This time,” Jemima whispered to Etcetera. 

Demeter took a deep breath, reminding herself that it wasn’t her place to reprimand them about being careful. After all, she and Bombalurina had done their fair share of sneaking around when they were in high school as well. 

Pressing her advantage, Etcetera continued, “These are just fun ways for us to get out of town. Jellicle sucks, there’s nothing to do at all. We just go to these things to dance and meet some interesting people, that’s it.” 

“People?” Demeter asked. “What people?” 

“See that guy in the green shirt? He’s been talking to me all night! His name is Chad, he’s twenty-five, and he plays the electric guitar!” 

“ _What_?” 

“Hey, hey! How’s my favorite fan club doing?” Tugger sauntered up to them, his arm slung around Bombalurina’s shoulders. Victoria signed to him, and he frowned. “I don’t think I have the worst timing. In fact, I’d say I’m pretty great at reading the room. Like, I can tell Jemima is excited to see me, and Electra thinks this is the best show yet, and Demeter-- oh.” 

“That is the correct response,” Demeter said, her voice frigid. 

“What’s going on?” Bombalurina asked. 

“Tugger let them in and they’ve been getting hit on by older guys all night.”

Bombalurina stepped out from under Tugger’s arm and whacked him in the shoulder. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“They asked me to!” When the sisters scoffed identically at him, he raised his hands in protest. “I don’t see what the big deal is! They don’t _go home_ with the guys -- I drive them all home after the show!” 

“And you really think that going to someone’s house is the only way something can happen? I can’t believe you!” 

“Bomba, come on. Everyone did stuff like this at their age. At least this way I can keep an eye on them. And look, Plato’s here too!” 

“I don’t think Plato’s in the right state to keep an eye on anyone,” Demeter said dryly. “Unless the wall he’s currently talking to would disagree.” 

Jemima groaned and went to steer Plato towards their group and away from a permanent concussion. As Bombalurina continued to yell at Tugger, Demeter turned to Victoria. “Okay, give me your phone. I’m calling your brother.” 

Victoria’s eyes went wide with panic, and Etcetera interpreted for her. “No, please don’t call Munkustrap! He’ll kill us! He will actually murder us!” 

That was a fair point. Demeter sighed. “Look, I would drive you myself, but I’ve been drinking pretty steadily since we got here. So, phone.” 

Victoria reluctantly handed it over, and Demeter scrolled down the list of contacts until she found the one she wanted. Turning away slightly, she lifted the phone to her ear and listened to it ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, it’s Demeter. Can you do me a favor?” 

“You were right to call me,” Mistoffelees crowed as his car pulled away from the club. “Can you imagine the hullabaloo if Jennyanydots found out where they had gone? No, wait! Jellylorum!” 

“Less gloating, more driving, please,” Demeter said. 

Mistoffelees looked in the rearview mirror to make sure Victoria could read his lips. “You’d better be nice to me, little sister, or I might accidentally let slip to Old Deuteronomy where you were tonight.” 

Victoria tilted her head defiantly. Demeter wasn’t sure how she managed to still look regal when she was squished between four other people, but she pulled it off. She extracted her arms from the seatbelt that she and Plato were sharing and replied, “So what? He doesn’t care.” 

“That’s true,” Misto said thoughtfully. “But Munkustrap definitely would. I bet he would ground you!” 

Victoria frowned, and held up a sign that even Demeter knew. 

Her brother only laughed. “Well, that’s not very nice. Just for that I’m going to make you do all my chores. ” 

“Leave her alone,” Electra said. “If you tell on her, we’ll tell on you. Do you think Old Deuteronomy knows about the spoon incident?” 

Plato laughed dreamily. “I love that story.” 

“Etcetera, your zipper is digging into my back,” Jemima complained. 

Etcetera retorted, “You were the one who wanted to sit on my lap instead of the other way around.” 

“You would crush me!” 

“Everyone,” Demeter said. “Please. Be quiet.” 

The car fell silent. The younger group was clearly hoping to keep her happy so she wouldn’t rat them out. 

Plato muttered, “Sorry, Demeter.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” Electra added sheepishly. 

Mistoffelees dropped them off in front of Jenny’s house, but Demeter held onto Electra and Jemima’s arms before they could go in. 

Jemima exchanged a glance with Electra. She really liked Demeter, but they were definitely in for it now. 

Surprisingly, Demeter didn’t immediately chew them out. She ran a hand over her face, and Jemima remembered that although they acted like adults, Demeter and Bombalurina were both pretty young. Right now, that was clearer than ever. 

“I won’t rat you guys out to Jenny,” Demeter said, and the younger girls heaved a sigh of relief, “But you can’t keep doing this. You know that, right? Sneaking into clubs, drinking with older guys… it could’ve been really dangerous.” 

“We’re sorry,” Electra whispered. “We just wanted to have fun.” 

Demeter scrubbed a hand over her face. She looked incredibly tired. “I know. But Electra, there will be plenty of time to have fun when you’re in college. You need to finish high school first, okay?” 

Electra was blinking back embarrassed tears. “Okay.” 

“And Jemima… I’m not your guardian, I know that. You don’t have to listen to anything I say, but you have _so_ much potential. I just want you to be smarter than I was at your age.” 

Jemima found that staring at the planks in the porch floor was much easier than looking at Demeter’s face. She nodded a couple times. 

Demeter heaved a sigh. “Okay. Now we sneak inside and never speak of this night again.”

The girls nodded. Jemima unlocked the front door, and they began their long, quiet trek into the house. 

When Munkustrap entered the coffee shop at his usual time on Sunday, he was surprised to find it empty. The door was unlocked and the lights were on, but there was no one behind the counter. 

“Hello?” 

There was no answer. Tugger was the one who had Bombalurina’s phone number, but he was still reeling from the breakup and had opted to stay in the car. Munkustrap was about to give up when he remembered the door leading to the backroom. 

The girls weren’t in there either, but the strong smell of coffee beans boosted Munkustrap’s spirits, and woke him up enough to see shadows moving outside. 

He opened the back door that led out into the alley. “Hey.” 

Demeter and Bombalurina both flinched, and Munkustrap noticed that they looked exhausted. 

“Jesus Christ, you scared me,” Bombalurina admonished him. “Also, customers aren’t allowed behind the counter.” 

He ignored her. “What are you guys doing?” 

Demeter wouldn’t meet his eyes, but she gestured towards the large cardboard box that was sitting in front of them. “We, um, got a package that neither of us ordered.” 

“Okay. So, what’s in it?” He moved towards it, but jumped back when the girls exclaimed, “Don’t touch it!” 

Demeter stared at the box as if it would bite her. “Sorry. But we don’t know who sent it.” 

That explained why they were so on edge. Munkustrap cautiously stepped a little closer to the box, putting himself in front of the girls. He didn’t _think_ it would contain bees or a rabid animal, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared. “There’s no return address?” 

“No,” Bombalurina said. “Just the site it shipped from.” 

“Okay. Well, it was probably just delivered to the wrong address. I’m sure it doesn’t contain a human head or anything.” 

The girls exchanged a wary glance. 

Confused, Munkustrap said, “You think it _does_ contain a human head?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Bombalurina muttered to Demeter. 

Demeter finally looked directly at Munkustrap. “We don’t know.” 

There was a piece to this situation that he wasn’t quite getting, and that Demeter seemed to be trying to communicate to him telepathically to no avail. Regardless, it was clear that neither of them wanted to go near that box. 

“Okay,” Munkustrap said. “How about this? I will open the box while you two watch from inside. That way, if it’s filled with zombie fire ants, they’ll attack me and you guys will be safe.” 

The girls quickly agreed, and Munkustrap used his car keys to cut the tape on the box. Although he didn’t want to admit it, their paranoia had affected him and he hurriedly stepped back once the box was open, expecting the worst. 

When nothing jumped out at him, he peered inside the box and began to laugh. Munkustrap motioned for the girls to come back outside. “It’s an espresso machine!” 

Bombalurina joined him, but Demeter lingered on the step. 

Munkustrap saw a flash of alarm on her face and asked, “Is everything okay?” 

Bombalurina turned around to frown at her sister. 

Demeter’s hands were picking nervously at the collar of her shirt. She took a shaky breath. “When Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were here, I think I told them that we didn’t have an espresso machine. I was trying to persuade them not to hit the shop.” 

“They’re retired,” Bombalurina said soothingly. She bent down inside the box and picked up an envelope. “I’m sure it’s a coincidence.” 

Munkustrap went to Demeter’s side. Quietly, he asked, “What’s going on?” 

She sighed. “My ex-boyfriend is really--”

“Demeter, come and read this,” Bombalurina called. “Look, the owner sent it because she wants us to start making more drinks.” 

Demeter went over to inspect the letter that her sister was holding. Whatever she read seemed to reassure her greatly. “We make plenty of drinks.” 

“Clearly, not enough for Her Royal Highness.” Bombalurina put an arm around Demeter’s shoulders. She said softly, “Sometimes, an espresso machine is just an espresso machine.” 

Munkustrap wondered if he was still asleep and dreaming. This conversation was so baffling, they might as well have been speaking a different language. “Wait, I thought you guys were the owners?” 

Bombalurina brushed past him on her way back indoors and winked. “We are in all the ways it counts. Munkustrap, go tell your brother that I see him sulking in the car. You guys are going to carry this thing inside, okay?” 

“I feel like I don’t really have a choice in this.” 

“You don’t!” Bombalurina called. “Now, go put those thigh muscles to good use.” 

Munkustrap looked down at his thighs, then back up at Demeter. “I feel strangely objectified.” 

She laughed. “After one conversation with Bomba, everyone does.” 

Demeter didn’t always like to be touched, so Munkustrap took her arm lightly enough that she could brush him away if she wanted to. She didn’t. 

Taking heart from that, he lowered his voice. “What were you going to tell me before? Something about your ex?” 

“Oh.” Demeter smiled slightly. “Don’t worry about that. It was nothing.” 

Munkustrap didn’t believe her, but he let the matter drop, and went to go force Tugger into helping. 

“Buried alive,” Etcetera said. “No question.” 

Demeter looked up, frowning. 

“What?” Electra said. “Why?” 

“Because I’m afraid of drowning. You know this.” 

Jemima said, “It’s the same thing.” 

Etcetera protested, “No it’s not! Drowning is so much worse!” 

Victoria put in her take to the argument. Demeter was learning, but she still only knew a few phrases in sign language. It didn’t take a genius, however, to figure out that Victoria was saying something about asphyxiation. 

Demeter said, “What are you guys talking about?” 

The four girls looked up at her sheepishly. 

“We’re playing This Or That,” Jemima said. “Demeter, would you rather drown or be buried alive?” 

“Uh… I don’t want to answer this question.” 

Etcetera booed. 

At first, Demeter had been confused as to why everyone in Jellicle grouped the girls, Pouncival, and Tumblebrutus together as “the kids.” Half of them were in college, after all, and the other half would be college-bound soon. But Jennyanydots had explained that among the close-knit group of family friends in town, there hadn’t been any new children born to replace them, and so their status was cemented as “the kids” no matter how old they got. It made sense, seeing how carefree they were. 

Someone banged on Jenny’s front door, and Demeter turned to see Pouncival pressing his face against the glass. 

His father grabbed Pouncival by the arm and pulled him away to enter the house more calmly. “Cettie, ready to go?” 

Etcetera grabbed her gymnastics bag. “Yep! Wish us luck, we’re trying to lock down our routine today.” 

“Good luck!” Victoria smiled. 

Pouncival bounced in place. “You guys want to see me do a backflip?” 

“Don’t do a backflip!” Demeter said hurriedly. There was an awful image in her head of Pouncival’s flip breaking the whole house into little pieces. 

The family turned to leave, but Electra called, “Hey, Asparagus! Would you rather drown or be buried alive?” 

Demeter put her head in her hands. 

Etcetera’s father thought about it, and decided, “Buried alive. I’m afraid of water.” 

“Exactly!” Etcetera exclaimed triumphantly, and gave her father a high five. 

“Hey, hey,” Bombalurina greeted Munkustrap as he got to the front of the line. “If it isn’t everyone’s favorite insurance agent. Fancy switching up your coffee order today?” 

At the mention of his job, Munkustrap suddenly realized that his tie was too tight. He yanked at it. Mondays were the worst. 

Bomba peered up at him, her playful smile fading slightly. “Is everything okay, man? You look a little pale and sweaty.” 

He was fine. His Monday mornings usually passed in this kind of fog, where everything was muted as though he was moving through water. Seeing the girls in the morning was able to push him through the stifling feel of his office until he could lose himself in busy work enough that he stopped thinking. It was fine, it was normal, it was manageable. 

Munkustrap buried his face in his hands. 

“Oh my God,” Bombalurina said, sounding alarmed. “Are you gonna throw up? Are you dying?” 

He tried to answer her to tell her that he was _fine_ but there was no air in his lungs. There were people behind him, he was holding up the line, he was drowning, he was drowning.

“Switch,” a familiar voice said. “We’re switching. Hey, Munkustrap, look at me.” 

Slender hands grabbed his wrists and forced them away from his face. He looked up to see Demeter, now in Bombalurina’s usual spot behind the register. 

“There he is,” Demeter said. Her voice was as soft and quiet as her eyes. “You’re okay.” 

He managed to nod. 

She released him. “Go on down, Munk. I know your order.” 

Mutely, he obeyed and moved down to the pick-up counter, still trying to get enough oxygen into his body. Bombalurina handed him his cup without meeting his eyes. Munkustrap wanted to apologize for scaring her but couldn’t remember how to speak. 

Out of habit, he glanced at the receipt taped to his cardboard cup. Demeter had spelled his name right. 

Munkustrap found that he could breathe again. 

He stayed at the counter for a little while longer, trying to think through what had just happened and marveling in the feeling of security the little cafe provided him. His arms itched where the plastic of Demeter’s gloves had brushed against him. 

The rest of the day passed a little easier. The stack of paperwork seemed more manageable with the memory of her hands on his skin, and he could distract himself by thinking of a way he could thank her for saving him this morning. But try as he might, nothing seemed adequate. Everything he came up with was either too big or not big enough. There was a curious lightness in his gut, maybe an aftermath of the panic attack or… 

The lightness quivered, and grew a little stronger. 

Munkustrap said, “Oh.” 

To test his theory, he thought about Demeter’s intense eyes, and the way they crinkled at the corners when she smiled at him. The feeling in his chest immediately reacted to the memory. 

“I’m in love with her,” he said to himself, softly enough that his office mates wouldn’t be able to hear it. He whispered the phrase again, tasting the way the words lingered sweetly on his tongue. “That’s what it is.” 

It seemed strange at first -- it had only been a couple of months since he met her, after all. But love was never something that Munkustrap had thought of as scary. His father had taught him that, and their friends in the town who were more like family had taught him that as well. To him, loving was as natural as breathing. 

He needed to think about this more. Should he do something, should he say something? Or would Demeter not want to know about his feelings right now, seeing as the girls were still adjusting to a new town? Was it too soon, would she think he was rushing? 

He didn’t get much work done for the rest of the day, but happily, he found that he didn’t really mind. There were much more important things to think about. 

When he walked into the coffee shop the next morning, Munkustrap found Bombalurina lounging at her usual position by the register, while Jemima leaned against the drinks counter, texting. 

When Bombalurina saw him, she started typing in his order. “You look surprisingly alive today.” 

Munkustrap shrugged. “Well, it’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do.” 

“Hm.” Bombalurina looked skeptical. She lowered her voice. “So, are we not going to talk about how you had a nervous breakdown in line yesterday?” 

“I would appreciate it if we didn’t.” He glanced curiously at her companion at the drinks station. Jemima was now taking a selfie with a bunch of empty coffee cups.

“My sister’s not working today,” Bombalurina said bluntly. “Oh, don’t look so disappointed.” 

Munkustrap quickly schooled his features into a neutral expression. “I’m not! Look, I just wanted to thank her for yesterday. Will you tell her I stopped by to say… that I’m really grateful?” 

Bombalurina squinted her eyes and scrutinized him for a beat, then shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Thanks.” 

She began to print his receipt, and Munkustrap moved down the counter to say hello to Jemima. 

When the younger girl handed him his coffee a few minutes later, Munkustrap noticed first that today Bombalurina had spelled his name as MUKUNSTRAPS. He rolled his eyes, and then found a note at the bottom of the paper. Bombalurina had scrawled a phone number in blue pen and had written beneath it: _Tell her yourself._

Try as he might, Munkustrap couldn’t keep himself from smiling. 


	2. An Unwanted Visit

Munkustrap was reading through a client’s proposal when his phone lit up with a text. Recently, Cassandra had been trying to convince him that splitting the cost of a hot tub with her was a good idea, so Munkustrap was prepared to leave her unanswered -- but he saw that it was from Demeter and reached for his phone. 

Her text read: _i need your help. can you come over?_

He responded, _Is everything okay?_

_yes but i have to feed jenny’s mice while she’s away and they creep me out._

It had been a little over two weeks since the “meltdown in the coffee shop” incident (that Munkustrap had been trying to block from his memory). Since then, he had stuck to his normal coffee routine, but he had taken to rehearsing conversation starters on the car ride over, as long as his family wasn’t with him. They would never let him live it down. 

_I can’t, I’m at work right now._ Truthfully, the mice creeped him out too. 

Demeter sent him a sad emoticon. 

Munkustrap put the phone down and tried to keep working, but he couldn’t focus. Her last text was still sitting there, the _:(_ begging to be answered. 

A few minutes later, he sighed in defeat. _I’m done at 5. We can feed them then._

_!! :)_

They stood in front of the mice’s habitat together, watching the little creatures suspiciously. 

Demeter whispered, “I think they’re mad at me.” 

“I’m sure they’re not mad at you,” Munkustrap said, although privately he agreed that the mice didn’t look happy. 

“Jennyanydots has been sending me text updates on what to do for them. I never knew mice were so complicated to keep as pets.” 

She was stalling, and they both knew it. 

Munkustrap clung to his last bit of hope. “Can’t Bombalurina feed them?” 

“She fed them yesterday. We agreed to take turns.” 

He sighed and reached for the pellets of food. “Alright. I don’t think we can put this off any longer.” 

“No matter what happens,” Demeter said, “no man gets left behind.” 

They shook hands. 

“I feel like I need to apologize for being dramatic,” Demeter said, afterwards. “That wasn’t so bad.” 

Munkustrap gave her an incredulous look. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“No! They’re actually kind of cute, once you get used to them.” 

He shuddered. “Agree to disagree. And you don’t need to apologize. I was, uh, I was happy to hear from you.” 

Demeter’s smile lit up her face. “Um, did you eat dinner yet?” 

“No, I didn’t,” Munkustrap responded, too quickly. _Be cool!_ He cleared his throat and casually asked, “Why?” 

“Do you want to stay? We can order a pizza.” She began to root through the kitchen drawers. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” If he was going to be staying, he might as well get comfortable. Munkustrap loosened his tie until it was hanging more sloppily around his neck. He wanted to take it off all the way, but he had left his bag in the car, so he satisfied himself with simply loosening it and popping open the top button of his shirt. It probably looked unkempt, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Demeter’s face was flushed, and she was studying the menu with profound concentration. “What’s the ‘Pirate’s Delight?’” 

“Trust me, you don’t want to order that.” 

“What is it, though?” 

Munkustrap pulled a face, seeing that she wouldn’t let him get out of answering exactly what the Pirate’s Delight pizza was. “Um, it’s… bird. Bird meat.”

She looked up and eyed him suspiciously. “Bird meat? Like chicken?” 

“Yeah... it’s like chicken.” 

“I’m going to list types of birds until you tell me what it is. Turkey.” 

“You know what,” Munkustrap said, “Why don’t we put on a movie?” 

Demeter followed him into the living room. “Duck?” 

“It’s not duck.” He began to look through Jennyanydots’ collection of films. 

“Parrot.” 

“No.” 

“Swan?” 

There was a pregnant pause. Finally, Munkustrap said, “It’s not swan.” 

Demeter gasped in horror. “Goose!” 

“How do you feel about _The Aristocats_?” Munkustrap asked, a little desperately. 

“I love it, who doesn’t? Munkustrap. Does Growltiger put goose on his pizza?” 

“I can’t answer that,” he said, putting in the DVD. “Former-employee confidentiality clauses.” 

“That’s not a thing,” Demeter said sweetly. “More importantly, I guessed right!” 

She was so happy that he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that goose was not the only topping on the Pirate’s Delight pizza. It was, however, the least horrifying one, so Munkustrap let the topic drop. 

They were about halfway through the movie when Bombalurina came home from work. 

“There’s pizza for you in the fridge,” Demeter called without taking her eyes away from the television. “Don’t worry, we picked off the goose.” 

Munkustrap laughed. 

“Goose?” A loud voice said. “You guys got the Pirate’s Delight?” 

Slowly, Demeter turned around to see the Rum Tum Tugger grinning at her. Bombalurina grimaced, looking incredibly guilty. 

Tugger continued, “I’m surprised at you, Munkustrap. I thought you said you would never eat it again after finding out Growltiger uses--”

“We didn’t,” Munkustrap said. “Also, what are you doing here? I thought you guys were broken up.” 

“We are,” Bombalurina said firmly. “We’re doing a friend-with-benefits thing now.” 

Demeter stood up, throwing the rest of the blanket onto Munkustrap. Quietly, she asked her sister, “Why didn’t I know about this?” 

“I knew you would give me your judgmental face. Yes, that one!” 

“I am not judgmental,” Demeter protested. 

Bombalurina raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you guys watching _The Aristocats_?” Tugger said. “I love that movie!” 

The tension that had been building between the two women dissolved. Demeter sat down onto one of the couch’s armrests, and Tugger took her spot beside his brother. 

Bombalurina stalked into the kitchen to find the foil-wrapped slices of pizza that Demeter had set aside for her. Tugger tore his eyes away from the movie long enough to call after her, “Aren’t you going to warm it up first?” 

Defiantly, Bombalurina bit into her pizza. “I never have the energy to cook after work. It’s easier to just have it cold.” 

“You heathen!” Tugger said. He walked over to her and plucked the slice out of her hand. “I’ll do it for you, then. Where does Jenny keep her plates?” 

As the two clattered around in the kitchen, Munkustrap turned his head to look at Demeter, who was still perching on the arm of the couch. “Do you want to sit? Don’t let my brother bully you off of the couch.” 

“I’m fine,” Demeter said shortly, keeping her eyes on the screen. 

“Okay.” On the one hand, it wasn’t his place to pry. On the other hand, he could see her wobbling as she tried to keep her dignity and her balance. Munkustrap stretched out on the couch, rather dramatically, until his head was lying down by Demeter’s side. Once there, he made faces at her until she finally reached down and covered his face with her hand. 

“Watch the movie.” 

“I’m trying to, but someone’s hand is in my way.” 

That made Demeter laugh. Relenting, she poked his shoulder a few times until he got the hint and sat up enough for her to slide back down onto the couch. 

Bombalurina and Tugger came back into the den, with Bomba’s pizza slice now steaming from the microwave. 

She asked, “Hey, do you know if Jemima is studying upstairs?” 

“No, I think she’s at band practice,” Demeter said. 

“Perfect,” Bombalurina purred, and reached out to yank at Tugger’s arm.

He protested, “Hey, we can’t leave now! This is the best song of the whole movie!” 

Munkustrap looked at Demeter, waiting for her decision. 

She sighed. “Do you guys want to stay and finish the movie with us? We’re almost done anyway.” 

“Hell yeah!” Tugger vaulted over the back of the couch, singing along to the Louis Armstrong cat onscreen. 

Bombalurina followed in a more stately manner. As she walked by, she dropped her hand onto Demeter’s shoulder briefly. Demeter barely reacted, but her own hand came up to cover her sister’s. 

Bombalurina began typing in his order the moment Munkustrap walked through the coffee shop’s door, which jingled cheerfully at him. “One black coffee?” 

“One black coffee.” He handed her his card. “Thanks.” 

Demeter was making the drinks today, as she usually did to minimize her interactions with random customers. She flashed him a smile, and called out, “Plato, it’s been an hour! You need to buy something else.” 

Plato was sitting at one of the little tables by the window, working on his computer. He sighed. “I can’t afford to buy another drink. Hey, Munkustrap.” 

Munkustrap gave him a wave. 

“I’ll give you half of a cookie for half-off,” Demeter said sympathetically, “As long as you promise to buy the other half later.” 

Plato sighed. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got writer’s block anyway.” 

“What are you working on?” Munkustrap asked. 

“My screenplay.” 

“Your… hm.” Once again, Munkustrap had to firmly remind himself that he liked Plato as a boyfriend for Victoria and as a person. 

Demeter leaned against the counter, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, what’s your screenplay about?” 

Munkustrap shot her a glance. She smiled at him innocently. 

Plato lit up. “Thank you for asking! It examines Aristotelian ethics and what it means to be human through the lens of a futuristic android society. Pretty cool, right? And at the end the whole city burns down and the androids make a new society under the ocean.” 

Plato seemed to be waiting for a response, but Munkustrap didn’t trust himself to speak more than another assenting, “Hm.” 

“That does sound cool,” Demeter said. “Will you let me read it when you’re done?” 

“Definitely,” Plato said. “I’ll see you guys around.” 

“Bye, Plato!” Bombalurina called. “I like your nails, by the way!” 

“Thanks, Victoria did them for me.” Plato waved at them and made his exit. 

Once he was out of sight, Munkustrap turned to level a disappointed frown at Demeter. 

She smiled and began to prepare his coffee. “Okay, I admit that I was messing with you at first, but by the end I was actually interested! He seems very smart.” 

“Yeah,” Bombalurina put in, “Give the kid a break. Maybe one day he’ll be the next Hollywood celebrity director.” 

“Maybe,” Munkustrap conceded. 

Demeter slid him his coffee. The name on the cup read MUNKUNSTRAP. 

The bell above the door jingled as another customer came in. 

“Why, Bombalurina?” Munkustrap sighed. “Does torturing me really improve your day so much?” 

Bomba was laughing at him. “Oh, absolutely.” 

Demeter said, “Macavity.” 

Bombalurina whirled around. Munkustrap found his gaze drawn to Demeter, who had gone as still as a statue and was clinging to the drinks counter with one hand and the pick-up counter with the other as though she was holding herself up. 

Munkustrap followed her shocked eyes to the tall man who was standing by Bombalurina’s register. He was thin and had bags under his eyes, but none of that was unusual for someone entering a coffee shop. If it hadn’t been for the girls’ reactions to him, Munkustrap’s eyes would have skipped over him entirely. The only thing that wasn’t completely average about him was his head of red hair. 

Bombalurina stepped in front of Demeter, who was still frozen to the spot. “What are you doing here?” 

“Can’t a man come visit his two favorite runaways?” Macavity had a very smooth speaking voice, and his laugh was as charming as a black-and-white movie star’s. “Relax, Bombalurina. I’m just here to order some coffee.” 

“I don’t serve coffee to abusive assholes,” Bombalurina snarled. Her voice was shaking, whether with anger or fear, Munkustrap couldn’t tell. 

There was another man in the shop, who was wearing a construction worker’s vest. He had been sitting and reading a newspaper since Munkustrap had come in. Now, though, he looked up warily and caught Munkustrap’s eye. They nodded at each other, very slightly. 

Clearly, it was not subtle enough. Macavity dropped his smile. “Well, now you’re just causing a scene. These nice people don’t want to hear about your personal drama. I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing.” 

Bombalurina crossed her arms. 

“Demeter, can we talk? You never told me why you left.” His voice was now soft and pleading. “Maybe… maybe we can work it out.” 

Munkustrap started forward, but Bombalurina held up a hand to him. They waited for Demeter’s reaction. 

She took a deep breath, and her face hardened. “I don’t want to talk to you.” 

“Please,” Macavity said. “I miss you.” 

Demeter shuddered. “I want you to leave.” 

Now Munkustrap moved up to get in Macavity’s face, standing close enough that the other man was forced to take a step back, where he knocked into the construction worker. Together, they glared and boxed him in from either side. 

Macavity’s charming smile was back. “Message received.” 

“Let’s go, buddy.” Munkustrap motioned towards the door. 

Macavity gave him a scathing look, then pointed at Demeter. “I’ll see you around, girls.” 

And then he was gone. 

“Men like that are never any good.” the construction worker said. “You girls be safe out there, now.” 

“Thank you,” Bombalurina said. 

The stranger nodded and went back to his table and his newspaper. 

With Macavity finally gone, Demeter’s knees crumpled beneath her. Munkustrap leapt forward, but Bombalurina screamed, “Don’t touch her!” and he hastily moved back, putting his hands up in the air where she could see that they weren’t anywhere near her sister. 

Bombalurina caught Demeter by her armpits and half-supported, half-dragged her into the backroom. Munkustrap heard Demeter mumble something, but he couldn’t make out the words. Bombalurina shoved the door closed behind them, leaving Munkustrap alone to pace back and forth and stare at the door through which Demeter had vanished. 

The bell above the door signified that someone else was entering. Munkustrap turned around, ready to physically throw Macavity out of the shop if he needed to, but saw that it was only Jellylorum. 

The older woman looked around with a keen eye, and clutched her purse a little tighter to herself. “Well! This place certainly looks cleaner than when your no-good, run-off stepmother ran it.” 

“Good morning, Jellylorum,” Munkustrap said dully. 

“Hello, darling. How’s work going? Your father tells me that you’re up for a promotion.” 

Munkustrap muttered something non-committal and pushed his hands anxiously through his hair. Where was Demeter? What was happening in the backroom? 

Jellylorum followed his gaze and tutted. “Jennyanydots has been begging and begging me to give this place another shot ever since those new boarders of hers took it over. And even Gus Sr. was telling me over dinner the other day that your father gives his approval of these girls. Well, I’m finally here and what do I find? No service, no one working as far as the eye can see. A dreadful shame, really.” 

“Jelly!” Munkustrap took a minute to collect himself. When he spoke again, it was with considerable effort to keep his voice down and his tone polite. “They’re dealing with a family emergency right now.” 

“Oh. Well, I didn’t know that.” Looking guilty, Jellylorum peered at the menu. 

The backroom door opened and Bombalurina came out, swiping at her eyes. 

“What’s going on?” Munkustrap asked. “Is she okay?” 

Bombalurina only nodded and hurried over to the register. She said to Jellylorum, “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, ma’am.” 

“Oh, that’s quite all right, darling. Take as much time as you need,” Jellylorum said, and Munkustrap almost laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. 

But Demeter still didn’t emerge. Bombalurina took Jellylorum’s order and made her drink alone. Only when she was done and Jellylorum had taken a seat at one of the tables (looking mistrustfully at the construction worker but deciding to take her chances in case she heard some tasty gossip) did Bomba look at Munkustrap. 

“Demeter’s fine. She just needs to rest.” She was frowning, but her tone was calm. 

Munkustrap breathed deeply. “Okay. Do you need me to drive her home?” 

It was clearly the wrong thing to say, as Bombalurina’s lip curled upwards. She leaned over the counter, seeming to grow two sizes bigger and fiercer. “Listen to me. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but she does _not_ need this right now. My sister needs to rest and get better, and not worry about little boys wanting to--” 

Her voice broke. Munkustrap stepped back, for her sake as much as for his. He really did not want to hear Bombalurina finish that sentence, it would make everything he had been doing immoral and vulgar and concrete. 

“I understand,” he said. “I’ll go.” 

Demeter didn’t see Munkustrap for a week. Jemima had told her that he was still coming to the cafe, but he seemed to have changed his coffee-drinking schedule. Maybe he was busy with work, Demeter mused aloud, or maybe he had decided that he needed distance from her crazy. 

“You should just go talk to him, dear,” Jennyanydots urged. 

Demeter picked nervously at a hangnail. “I don’t know. I don’t want to bother him.” 

Truthfully, she also didn’t want to feel embarrassed when he rejected her friendship.

Bombalurina was in the kitchen with them, but she had been strangely silent throughout the whole conversation. Now, however, she spoke up. “I think you should go see him. Uh, he was really worried when… you know.” 

“Are you sure?” Demeter tried to catch her sister’s eye, but Bombalurina stared resolutely down at the table. 

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “At this point, it has to be your decision.” 

Which was how Demeter found herself standing outside of Munkustrap’s apartment late at night, knocking softly on the door. 

The door opened, and a woman with haughty cheekbones surveyed Demeter curiously. She was beautiful, and wearing light pajamas, and for a second Demeter’s head pounded with _I messed up, I got it wrong, I got it wrong_ \-- but then a man who was not Munkustrap came to the door and wrapped his arms around the beautiful woman’s waist. 

They waited, watching her patiently. 

Demeter cleared her throat. “Hi. Is Munkustrap here?” 

“Yes,” the woman said. “I’ll get him for you.” 

The unfamiliar man held out his hand to Demeter. “Hey, I’m Alonzo. Cassandra and I are his roommates.” 

She shook his hand. “Demeter. Nice to meet you.” 

Alonzo’s face brightened in recognition. “Oh, you’re the one from the coffeeshop!” 

“Yes! How did you--”

“Asparagus told me.” When she frowned in confusion, Alonzo clarified, “Jellylorum’s husband? Etcetera and Pouncival’s dad? He heard about you guys from Jenny, I think.” 

“That figures.” 

Munkustrap came to the door, scrubbing a hand tiredly over his face. He laid a hand on Alonzo’s shoulder, and the other man clapped him on the back once before moving back inside. 

“Hey,” Munkustrap said. Demeter was relieved to discover that he looked pleased to see her. “What are you doing here?” 

“Hi. Um, can we talk?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, come on in.” 

It didn’t make logical sense, but Munkustrap’s apartment was exactly what Demeter had expected. It was small, but neat and orderly, and the living room she stepped into was washed in gray and blue colors. Small items gave her clues as to the people who lived there -- someone’s yoga mat was rolled up and stashed next to the bookcase, there was a windbreaker hanging from the door proudly advertising the Jellicle Police Department, and Munkustrap’s planner with his family members’ schedules was hanging from the fridge. 

And there were books everywhere. Demeter could see that one shelf in the kitchen was decorated with cheerful, colorful cookbooks, and there was a larger bookcase in the living room carefully divided into three sections. This bookcase held yearbooks, textbooks on spirituality, sci-fi thrillers, anthologies of old depressing poems, and a couple lurid romance novels. There were charming little self-help books in a neat stack on a windowsill, and on top of the Dostoevsky novel on one of the end tables, someone had artfully placed a packet of melatonin capsules. 

Still looking around, she followed him into his bedroom and sat upon the bed. He shut the door carefully and joined her. 

“So, what’s going on?” 

Demeter took a deep breath. “I think that I should tell you about my ex-boyfriend.” 

Munkustrap’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay. You don’t have to, you know.” 

“I know,” Demeter said. “I want to.” 

He nodded, and waited quietly for her to start. 

Demeter had rehearsed her speech on the way over here, but knowing what she wanted to say didn’t make it any easier to say it. She focused on her hands, which were twisting in her lap, and spoke. “When Bomba and I first met Macavity, we didn’t realize, right away. We were young and stupid and -- really, I should have known better, I’m older than she is, but he was just so charming. To both of us. You know, I actually think I need to apologize to your brother.” 

“My brother?” Munkustrap asked, no doubt confused with how her story was skipping around. 

“Tugger. I may have been slightly too harsh on him.” She sighed. “It’s just that the way he enters a room and draws everyone to him… anyway, it worried me how quickly Bombalurina fell for him. That’s all.” 

Munkustrap hummed, understanding. “If I can interrupt…?” 

She turned to face him. “Please do.” 

“I don’t pretend to know everything that goes on in my brother’s head, but I think he respects you exactly because you see through his act. Not many people tell him no, it’s good for him to hear it once in a while.” 

Demeter smiled minutely. “Thank you.” 

“Have you ever thought about filing a restraining order against Macavity?”

The haunted look was back on her face. Demeter tried to speak around the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. It took her a couple tries. “I have thought about it, but… sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry. Take your time.” Munkustrap reached out for her, but he remembered himself and drew away. 

Demeter grabbed his hand and placed it on her back. He began to rub slow circles that spread warmth down her spine and grounded her in her body again. Demeter stared up at the ceiling and blinked rapidly a couple times. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “The thing is, he’s very good at not getting caught.” 

Munkustrap froze. 

She plowed on. “There’s not much else that I wanted to tell you. I stayed with him for longer than I should have, even after things fell apart. Bombalurina still has the burn on her leg… but we got out. We ran away and stayed at a women’s shelter for a couple of months until we could find a job and a place on the other side of town. Heaviside is a big enough city that we didn’t bump into him again for the next few years that we lived there.” 

He waited to make sure she was done, then said, “Thank you for telling me.” 

“I just, I thought maybe you were avoiding me.” Demeter turned to face him. 

“Ah. I was.” Munkustrap cleared his throat, and hastened to clarify, “But not because I got scared away. No, I wanted to… give you space. To rest and get better.” 

Something about the last phrase struck Demeter as familiar. She wracked her mind, and then realized that after Macavity had come, Bombalurina must have told Munkustrap that Demeter was feeling too shaken to do anything more than lie on a sack of coffee beans and stare at the shelves of the back room. 

With a sigh, Munkustrap leaned back until he was lying on the bed. Demeter was reminded how late it was. Both of them had work in the morning. 

Instead of leaving, though, she lay back and joined him. “Do you want to know the worst part?” 

“What?” 

Demeter laughed. “It’s embarrassing.” 

He moved his hand over enough to tap her on the arm. “Tell me.” 

“Even after everything Macavity’s done, everything I hate him for, there’s still a part of me that forgets, and wants him back. Not all the time, not when I’m being rational, you know? But the moment when I see him again, my heart skips a beat, and I feel like a teenager again.” 

“That’s not embarrassing,” Munkustrap said. “I mean, I can see how it would be… inconvenient. But you two obviously had a very intense relationship.” 

“That’s one way to describe it.” 

“You know what I mean. Your mind probably has a different memory of him than your body does.” There was a brief silence, and Munkustrap felt heat rise to his cheeks. He had no business talking about Demeter’s body, why did he say that? Hastily he added, “But if your heart is skipping beats all the time, that’s called arrhythmia and you should go to a doctor.” 

She still didn’t say anything. 

“That was a terrible joke, I’m sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood.”

Demeter said, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re sort of a nerd?” 

“Yes,” Munkustrap said. “Many, many times.” 

She laughed quietly. Back in comfortable territory now, they watched the ceiling fan move quietly for a couple of rotations. 

“I think I’m done with arrythmia now, though,” Demeter said softly. “I want something steady.” 

“Well,” said Munkustrap, “I hope you find it soon.” 

They looked at each other. 

“You know what?” Demeter said. “I think I will.”

Tentatively, they shared a smile. 

Bombalurina always looked great. She knew that, and wore that like a badge of honor. Today was no different. In fact, one could argue that today she looked even _better_ than usual. She looked like a million bucks. She looked like the way Tumblebrutus had missed a step on the stairs when he saw her this morning. 

She hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. 

George was swiping customer’s items when she got to the front of the line. Pouncival was supposed to be bagging them, but he didn’t seem to be doing much work that she could see. 

She dumped her supplies on the conveyor belt. 

“Hi, Bombalurina,” George said softly. 

Pouncival looked at her collection of ice cream and said, “Uh-oh. That’s a breakup shopping run if I ever saw one.” 

Bombalurina’s eyes must have flashed dangerously, because Pouncival quailed and looked away. 

George was holding her magazine up to the scanner curiously. “Um.” 

“Yes, George?” Bombalurina snapped. “Do you have a comment on my choice of reading material?” 

George looked at her. “Why are you buying _Men’s Health Magazine_?” 

“None of your business.” 

“It just doesn’t seem like something you would be reading?” 

“I’m buying it for my father, George! Do you want my father to get--” she glanced down at the cover, “-- colon cancer? You do, don’t you?” 

“No!” George said, horrified. Hastily, he scanned the magazine and stuffed it in a bag. “I’m so sorry! Dad told me I’m just supposed to make sure people don’t stick one magazine in the middle of another and only try to pay for one.” 

Pouncival snorted. “Gross. Look at your porn online like a normal person.” 

“People really try to do that?” Bombalurina studied her red nails. “Shocker.” 

“I know!” George said. “But we’re friends, Bombalurina, so I trust you. It’s just procedure for me to ask.” 

George was so earnest that Bomba felt a twinge of guilt despite herself. It was time to get out of here. She grabbed her bag and stalked away. 

“Come back soon!” Pouncival called, sniggering. 

As she was making her way out of the store, though, Bombalurina’s attention was caught by a little boy sitting on a bench near the entrance, sniffling. She looked around, but didn’t see any adults nearby. 

“Hey,” Bombalurina said, crouching down in front of him. “What’s your name?” 

There were tears running down his cheeks. “Peter.” 

“Hi, Peter. I’m Bombalurina.” She had never known how to talk to kids, and searched her bag for something he might be interested in. “Uh, do you want some ice cream?” 

The boy looked interested, but shook his head. “I’m not allowed to accept food from strangers.” 

“Oh, shit-- I mean, shoot. That’s a smart rule to have. Who did you come to this store with, Peter?” 

He hiccuped. “My mom.” 

“Okay. Do you know where she is?” 

He started crying with more force and shook his head. 

“Okay.” Bombalurina looked around for a capable adult, then realized that she was the capable adult in this situation. That was a bad sign for poor Peter. 

She was suddenly struck with an idea. “Hey, do you want to meet the oldest man you’ve ever seen?” 

“How old is he?” Peter asked through his sobs. 

“He’s ninety-nine years old!” Bombalurina gasped. “Can you believe that?” 

“My grandfather’s ninety-one,” Peter said. 

Bombalurina scoffed. “Ninety-one? That’s nothing!” 

Peter thought it over, and nodded. Bombalurina held out her hand to him, and they made their way to Old Deuteronomy’s office. 

He was writing an email, but looked up when he saw them. “Ah, Bombalurina. Good to see you! Who is your young friend?” 

“My name’s Peter. Are you really ninety-nine years old?” 

“Ninety-nine years old? Certainly not.” But Bombalurina hastily gestured for him to play along. Old Deuteronomy said, “I’m one hundred!” 

“Wow!” Peter said. “I can tell!” 

As it turned out, all it took was one announcement over the loudspeaker to reunite Peter with his mother, who hugged the little boy tightly and scolded him for wandering off. 

Bombalurina watched them. Her mouth quivered. 

“That was a very nice thing you did,” Old Deuteronomy said softly. “Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?” 

She didn’t really want to, but it didn’t sound like an invitation she could refuse. 

Old Deuteronomy sat opposite her as they waited for the water to boil. “How are you today, Bombalurina?” 

Bombalurina wanted to yell at him, but her respect for the old man kept her voice quiet. “I’m fine. I’m sure your son already told you, but we’re not seeing each other anymore. I mean, we broke up… but we still sort of had a thing going on after that. Now that’s done too, though. And people keep _looking_ at me and asking how I’m feeling, but why should I be sad? I’m feeling great! Actually, I’m _glad_ that he called it off. It was holding me back from exploring all my other options. Of which there are a lot.” 

Her rant finished, she sat back in her seat. 

“I actually didn’t know that you two weren’t an item anymore,” Old Deuteronomy said softly. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Why?” 

The electric teapot whistled. Old Deuteronomy heaved himself up to turn it off, and began to pour tea into two mugs as he spoke. “I like to see Tugger happy. And it seemed like the two of you were well-suited to each other.” 

Bombalurina stared at her hands. “Yeah. Well, I thought so, too.” 

He set the mug in front of her. “You and Demeter will always be welcome here, regardless of the status of your relationship with my son. I think we all view you as part of this town now -- that is, if you want to be.” 

“Yeah,” Bombalurina said, touched. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” 

They took a sip. 

Bombalurina said, “I hate to tell you this, but this tea sucks.” 

“I know,” Old Deuteronomy sighed. “My sons got it for me for Christmas, but they’re coffee-drinkers. I’m trying to drink it all up so I can buy myself a good brand.” 

She laughed. 

They kept quiet conversation for a few more minutes, chatting as they grimaced against the taste of the tea. By the time Bombalurina remembered the ice cream in her bag, she was slightly more cheerful. 

She stood up. “Thanks for the talk. I should get going, though. These groceries aren’t going to eat themselves.” 

He glanced at her bag, which had the magazine sticking out of the top. “ _Men’s Health_?” 

“There’s porn inside,” Bombalurina said. “Sorry.” 

Old Deuteronomy nodded sagely. “I figured.” 

Feeling a little better, Bombalurina made her way to the car, where she took out her compact mirror and wiped some of her eye makeup off. Really, such a dark smokey eye was not appropriate during the day, especially when there was no one around to appreciate it (Demeter was working). She kept her foundation on though, because she wasn’t an animal and because it would be a shame to let such good contouring go to waste. 

Tumblebrutus was heading out when she got back, and he tripped again when he saw her. Bombalurina was starting to think that maybe it had nothing to do with her at all, and that Tumblebrutus just wasn’t very good at going down the stairs. 

“Did you buy me any ice cream?” 

She said, “Buy your own ice cream. Or next time tell me what you want before I go.” 

Tumblebrutus pouted, but reached forward and snagged the magazine. “Oh, cool, the latest issue! I’ve been wanting to read this!” 

Bombalurina could feel her ice cream melting, so she waved him away without really paying attention. “Go nuts.” 

“Thanks!” Flipping through it, he bounced out the front door. A minute later there was a horrified yell. 

Tumblebrutus came back in. He didn’t meet Bombalurina’s eyes as he handed her the X-rated magazine she had stolen. “I think this is yours.” 

She cackled. “Would you believe me if I said I forgot that was in there?” 

Looking scarred, he turned and left. 

“Thank you!” Bombalurina called sweetly after him. Smiling to herself, she settled down to her ice cream. 

Somehow, it had become a habit for Munkustrap to sit with Demeter on the few nights that she was closing the coffee shop by herself, and to drive her home afterwards. It was on one of those nights that she met the twins. 

The bell above the door must have been broken, because one second Demeter was chatting with Munkustrap, and then the next she realized that there were two people standing in line, surveying the collection of tea brands. The woman had a piercing on her right nostril, while the man had a piercing on his left. 

“Hi,” Demeter said, “What can I get for you?”

“What is the simplest tea you have?” The woman asked. Her voice was very soothing. 

“The simplest? Um, we have plain green, or black tea.”

“The green will probably be best,” the woman remarked to her companion, who nodded. 

“We usually make our own,” The man told Demeter, “but someone messed up the recipe.” 

The woman cleared her throat politely. 

“It was me,” the man admitted. “I messed up the recipe. I’ll have the green tea, thanks.” 

The woman said, “I would like the black tea.” 

The man looked betrayed. 

“Sure thing. And what’s the name for the order?” 

“Tantomile.” Without turning around, the mysterious woman said, “Hello, Munkustrap. It’s good to see you.” 

Munkustrap nodded respectfully. “You as well. How’s the shop?” 

“Going well, thank you.” The man smiled. “Business has been steadily going up since Jellylorum put out those pamphlets against us.” 

“Yeah…” Munkustrap winced. “Sorry about that, again.” 

“The past is the past,” said Tantomile. 

Demeter said, “Sorry to interrupt. Do you want those teas for here or to go?” 

The siblings looked at each other and seemed to reach a silent consensus. 

Coricopat said, “Would you like a reading?” 

“Would I like a -- what?” 

“A reading,” Tantomile said calmly. “Palm or tarot, preferably. It seems like the neighborly thing to do.” 

Demeter suddenly realized why they looked familiar to her. “Oh, you run the shop next door! The new age place with all the stones in the window, right? Do you know Jemima?” 

Their faces lit up. 

“We love Jemima,” Tantomile said, sounding more animated than she had been for the rest of the conversation. “She has a real gift. We give her lessons now and again.” 

Munkustrap coughed. “Sorry, you’re saying Jemima is… psychic?” 

“She is open to the world around her,” the man said. “Not skeptical and close-minded, like some.” 

They turned simultaneously to look at Munkustrap. 

Demeter laughed. These two seemed to have hidden depths of humor, and she didn’t mind that they were reserved. After living in Jennyanydots’ house, it was sometimes nice to talk to people who were more demure. She said, “You know what? I will take a reading.”

The woman smiled. “In that case, we will drink our teas here.” 

When they were seated at one of the small tables, Demeter asked her companion, “Will this take long? If a customer comes in I would have to stop and help them.” 

“The reading will be short enough. We are only going to draw one card,” Tantomile responded evenly. She was pulling her locs into a ponytail in preparation for the reading. “Could you shuffle the deck, please?” 

Demeter did as she requested. Behind her, she could hear Coricopat and Munkustrap talking softly at one of the other tables. The twins had requested that Munkustrap not watch the reading so that his negative energy didn’t affect the outcome. 

“Is there a question you have in mind?” Tantomile asked. “The more specific the question, the better, since we won’t be drawing more cards to hone the answer.” 

“I’ve never done one of these before,” Demeter said. “What can I ask about?” 

“Anything. If you’re seeking an answer to any tough decisions about love or your career, or if you’ve had any health scares in your family recently, and you’re worried about the future?” 

Demeter looked around her coffee shop as she thought. It technically wasn’t _hers_ , but she and Bombalurina thought of it as such, especially in light of the flightiness of the legal owner’s. She knew the rest of the town had come to think of _Roasted Memories_ as belonging to her and Bombalurina as well. 

That gave her an idea of what to ask about. After all, Macavity had spooked her, and she could use some supernatural reassurance. “Are my sister and I in the right place? This shop, this town… is being here a good thing for us?” 

Tantomile hummed as she thought. “Are you asking in terms of financial stability or interpersonal relationships?” 

“Yes, that one. Interpersonal relationships.” 

“Alright. Let’s find out, shall we?” 

Following Tantomile’s instructions, Demeter picked a card and flipped it over on the table. The picture showed a line of goblets floating in a rainbow while a group of people below them looked up at the rainbow, their arms outstretched and wrapped around each other. 

Tantomile smiled. “Oh, this is my brother’s favorite card to see in a reading. This is the Ten of Cups.” 

The other woman’s happy expression put some of Demeter’s nerves at ease. She asked, “Is that good?” 

“You asked about interpersonal relationships in Jellicle -- well, this card is the ideal of community. It shows that you’re strengthening your family bonds and finding content within that togetherness.” 

Demeter exhaled, relieved. 

“Now, if it was reversed,” Tantomile said. “That would be a different story. But as you drew it, this card shows that you have joy in the abundance of familial love you’re experiencing right now. You should appreciate that.” 

“Thank you. That’s really good to hear, actually.” 

Tantomile inclined her head politely. “Thank _you_. It’s always a pleasure to see the Ten of Cups in its upright form. Now that we know each other, perhaps Coricopat and I will stop in to say hello more often.” 

“I’d like that,” Demeter said. “So, did you say that the two of you usually make your own teas?” 

“Yes, we do. Loose leaf.” 

“Huh. Well, we should talk. The shop doesn’t have a big tea selection right now -- nothing other than green and black, really -- but there’s always people who come in around flu season looking for some sort of herbal tisane.” 

Tantomile smiled. “That sounds good.” 

“You’re smiling,” Munkustrap remarked as they drove back to Jenny’s house, “So I assume she didn’t tell you that you’re going to die within the next month.” 

“I don’t think that’s really their style,” Demeter laughed. “The twins seem very practical for people who make their living as a psychic.”

Munkustrap assented, then glanced over at Demeter. “What did you guys talk about? If you don’t mind sharing.”

Demeter thought about it. “Actually, I think I want to keep it private. Sorry.” 

He shrugged. “It’s okay. I think I would have a hard time listening without being skeptical, anyway.” 

“What did you and Coricopat talk about? He didn’t try to read your palm or anything?” 

“No,” Munkustrap chuckled. “I’ve known Coricopat since fourth grade, before he learned how to do that. We talked about Mistoffelees. There’s a town talent show coming up at the end of August, so he asked Coricopat to be his assistant, but Cori’s claustrophobic so he has to back out.” 

“What about Victoria?” 

“No, she’s refused to do it ever since that time Mistoffelees set her hair on fire.” Demeter shot him an alarmed look, so Munkustrap clarified, “It was an accident.” 

She laughed. “I don’t know if that makes it any better.” 

“I don’t know. We’ll think of someone to help out. I don’t suppose you would…?” 

“Absolutely not,” Demeter said hastily. “Not if you paid me. Stage fright.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” He pulled up to the house. “Well, I’ll keep you updated.” 

“Please do. If you can’t find anyone else, I might be able to convince my sister to help out, but she would try to upstage Mistoffelees throughout.” 

Munkustrap laughed. “Alright. That’s Plan Z, then. Good night, Demeter.” 

The way he was smiling at her made her chest feel warm. “Good night.” 

Munkustrap walked into the shop on Sunday morning at his usual early time. His younger siblings had chosen to ride with Old Deuteronomy and sleep in for fifteen more minutes, so it was only him and Tugger in the car this morning. His brother was waiting to make his grand entrance, so Munkustrap walked in alone. 

“Hey-- whoa!” Munkustrap hastily looked up at the ceiling. 

Bombalurina smirked at him, then yelped as Demeter passed by and pinched her in the side. 

“Will you put those things away?” Demeter said. “You’re going to take someone’s eye out.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Bombalurina said haughtily. 

“Stand up straight, at least. It looks like you’re trying to clean the countertop with your boobs.” 

“What’s up your ass this morning?” 

Demeter scowled. “Nothing.” 

“That’s exactly the problem. You need to get laid.” Bombalurina looked consideringly at the only other person in the coffee shop. “Hey, Munkustrap, are you single?” 

Demeter whirled around and hissed, “I’m going to _murder_ you!” and the sisters devolved into a whispered argument. 

“Um,” Munkustrap said, feeling incredibly awkward. “Can I give you my order or is this a bad time?” 

Not looking at one another, the girls stalked to separate ends of their space. Demeter picked up a rag and began angrily wiping down her counter, despite there being nothing spilled on it. Bombalurina typed the order into her register in silence. 

Of course, it was at this tense moment that Tugger decided to come inside. While he had been waiting in the car, Tugger had combed his hair up to even bigger heights. 

“Hey.” Tugger was affecting his voice to sound sultry, but mostly he sounded like he had a cold. 

Munkustrap sighed. “Can you not be horny right now? It’s six-thirty in the morning.” 

Demeter was still avoiding his eyes. 

“If you truly knew me, big brother, you would know that that’s the best time to be horny.” 

Tugger only called Munkustrap ‘big brother’ when he was in the mood to be a dick. This was going to be awful. 

“Hey, Bombalurina. Is that a new shirt?” 

Bombalurina perked up. “This? Oh no, I’ve had it for ages. You like it?” 

“Hm.” Tugger leaned over the counter. “The color doesn’t suit you.” 

Bombalurina’s coy smile dropped in a flash, and her nostrils flared dangerously. 

Demeter’s mouth was slack with horror. Forgetting that she was mad at Munkustrap, she sent him a dismayed look. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly in response. 

Bombalurina’s smile was back, burning fiercely on her face. But surprisingly, it wasn’t directed at Tugger anymore. “Munkustrap?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You never answered my question before.” Her voice was syrupy sweet. “Are you single?” 

“Uh. Yes, I am.” 

“Really? Do _you_ like my shirt?” 

This felt like a trap from three directions. But the whole shop was waiting for his answer, so there was nothing Munkustrap could say except, “I guess so?” 

“Wow,” Bombalurina said. “You know, I’m single too.” 

That piece of information allowed the last minute to make so much more sense. It explained why she and Tugger had been flaunting in front of each other to such an extreme -- however, it did not explain why Bombalurina was currently smiling at Munkustrap like that. 

Munkustrap glanced at his brother for clues, but Tugger only rolled his eyes. Demeter had turned her back to him again. 

Bombalurina winked. “Just something to keep in mind.” 

Demeter’s cleaning rag hit the counter with a loud slap. “Can I talk to you?” 

“Oh, by all means!” Bombalurina snapped, and they started whispering intensely again. 

Tugger shook his head and left. 

Eventually, Bombalurina broke away from whatever argument she and Demeter were having and headed to the backroom. 

Demeter scowled and began to pour coffee into to-go cups. 

“Is everything okay?” Munkustrap asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” Demeter said. She raised her voice and directed it towards the backroom. “It’s just that when you _live_ and _work_ with your sister, you can really tell when she’s being a brat!” 

Bombalurina shouted a curse word back. 

“Are you angry with me?” Munkustrap wondered why she still wouldn’t look at him. 

“No,” Demeter said, angrily. 

He blew out a breath. “Okay. I want to clarify that I wasn’t checking out your sister.” 

“Oh my God!” Demeter finally met his eyes. “Munkustrap, you can look at whoever you want to. I don’t care!” 

“Demeter--” 

“Here’s your coffee.” She put the tray of drinks on the counter, with his own cup beside it. 

Before she could move away from the cup, he took hold of it. Their fingers brushed together, and she stood as still as if he had rooted her in place. 

“Demeter,” Munkustrap said, a little more firmly. “There’s only one person who I want to look at.” 

“Oh.” She blinked. “Really?” 

“Yes.” 

Demeter took a deep breath. “If you say Bombalurina right now, I’m going to pour this coffee on your head.” 

He smiled at her in acknowledgement of her joke, and after a beat, she returned it. Munkustrap brought his thumb up to brush against hers where it still held the cup. 

She sucked in a breath. Demeter’s earlier anger had deflated, and now she was looking up at him with widened eyes. 

Munkustrap asked tentatively, “Is that… I mean, is that okay with you?” 

“Yes,” Demeter said gently. “Yes, it’s more than okay. And, um, I like looking at you too. And talking to you, and… you know what I mean.” 

He was blushing. “Yeah. I do.” 

They smiled at each other like idiots for a few seconds, remembering themselves only when another customer came in. 

"I should let you get back to work." 

“Oh, right. I need to check on my sister.” Demeter sighed. “Have fun at the hockey game!” 

“Thanks.” Munkustrap took his drinks. “I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah." She waved. "Bye.” 

Munkustrap passed the rest of the day in a fog of happiness. George’s hockey team didn’t win, but he barely noticed. He loved the weekend. 

  
“Hey,” Cassandra said.

Munkustrap looked up wearily. His eyes had been focusing on tiny print of text for so long that they took a minute to adjust to his roommate, who was standing in front of him wearing a judgmental look. “What’s up?”

“I came to get a glass of water,” Cassandra said calmly. “Can we talk about what you’re doing?”

He looked down at the papers spread out in front of him and played dumb. “What do you mean?”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow and waited.

Munkustrap relented. “I didn’t get anything done at work today. So I’m just trying to finish this before bed. It’s fine.”

“Alonzo,” Cassandra called. “He’s doing it again!”

Alonzo emerged from the bedroom, pulling on a sweatshirt. “Come on, Munk.”

“It’s not a big deal!” Munkustrap protested.

“It is a big deal. It’s eleven at night, and you’re doing paperwork. Just wait until you go in tomorrow and get it done then.”

Munkustrap shook his head. “No, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Alonzo pushed.

“I just -- look, I’ll finish this page, and then I’ll put it away for the night.”

Cassandra put her cup down onto the counter. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was deliberate enough that the men stopped arguing and turned to look at her.

In a tone that brooked no argument, Cassandra said, “Let’s go. Twenty-five jumping jacks.”

Munkustrap groaned.

Alonzo crossed his arms. “You heard the lady.”

Munkustrap followed Cassandra to the middle of the living room, grumbling, “I hate when you guys gang up on me.”

Alonzo grinned. “Babe, make him do inside-outside.”

“Good idea.” Cassandra raised her arms above her head.

There were severe downsides to living with a physical trainer, but at least Cassandra joined in for every exercise she put Munkustrap through. By the time she called a stop, they were both out of breath and sweating.

Cassandra led him through a series of cool-down stretches, then poured herself another glass of water. While they had been working out in the living room, Alonzo had gathered up Munkustrap’s papers and put them away, where he couldn’t see them and be tempted to work on them again. 

“Where’s your happy book?” Cassandra asked, referencing one of the historical novels Munkustrap read for fun. She called it a “happy book” because she thought it was ironic -- Alonzo had tried to read one but found it so sad that it made him cry -- but she recognized that Munkustrap found them comforting.

“In my room.” One of his favorite authors had just published a new book about the potato famine in Ireland. The main character reminded him greatly of Jennyanydots.

“Take one of these and then go read that until you fall asleep.” Cassandra looked around until she saw the packet of melatonin capsules. “You’re not helping anyone when you’re spiraling and torturing yourself out here.”

Munkustrap sighed. “I’ll take one if you will too.”

Cassandra looked at him, considering. Of the three people in their apartment, only Alonzo consistently slept like a rock. Munkustrap was willing to bet that Cassandra’s own insomnia had been what drove her out to the kitchen in the first place.

“Fine,” she said eventually.

They touched their pills together in a perverse sort of toast.

“Hey, Munkustrap?” Alonzo said.

He had been on the way to his room, but at Alonzo’s voice, Munkustrap turned around. Cassandra was resting her chin on the top of Alonzo’s head where he sat in the chair, watching.

“You should just tell your dad that you want to work at the store with him.”

He was too tired to argue, and Alonzo was right, anyway.

“I’ll think about it,” Munkustrap promised, and made his way to bed. 

Demeter was doing laundry when her phone buzzed with a text. She dug it out of her pocket, and saw that Bombalurina had texted her, _Milkshakes?_

Hastily, she dumped her detergent into the machine and started it, texting back one-handed, _5 min._

“Electra!” Demeter called up the stairs. 

“What?” 

“Will you put my laundry in the dryer in thirty minutes?” 

There was no answer. 

“Electra!” 

“God, fine!” Electra yelled back. 

Demeter smiled. “Thank you!” 

In response, Electra turned up her rock music. Demeter shook her head. Teenagers were a mystery. 

Their favorite diner was in Heaviside, and it hadn’t changed a bit since they were little girls. It was a chain restaurant known for their burgers, but the sisters had always had a soft spot for their milkshakes, and eventually it had turned into a comfort food. 

Demeter looked around nervously. “Think we’ll run into Mom?” 

She didn’t know whether she was dreading or hoping for that possibility. 

“Please, she wouldn’t even go near this place. ” Bombalurina said. She imitated their mother’s high-pitched voice. “‘Just looking at the building makes me gain five pounds!’”

Demeter laughed. 

They gave their order to a bored teenage girl -- cookies and cream for Demeter, double chocolate for Bomba. The official “emergency milkshake” rules said that they couldn’t talk about what was bothering them until their drinks were halfway finished, so Demeter waited. 

Finally, Bombalurina drummed her nails on the table and sighed. “I can’t believe you’re doing that to your fries.” 

Demeter picked up another french fry and dunked it into her milkshake. “Etcetera got me into it. It’s actually not half-bad.” 

“Disgusting,” Bombalurina said, but her heart clearly wasn’t in it. At the mention of Etcetera’s name, she had averted her eyes. “Do you ever think we’re getting too attached to Jellicle?” 

“Do _you_ think we’re getting too attached to Jellicle?” 

Bombalurina frowned at her sister. “I don’t know, that’s why I asked you!” 

“Did something… happen to make you think that? Do you want to move?” 

“No, I don’t want to move. And that’s what’s scaring me a little bit.” 

Demeter said, “I don’t understand.” 

“Ugh, I hate talking about my feelings!” Bombalurina waved her hands vaguely in the air. “It’s like, the other day I was walking down the street. I was going to Jellylorum’s because I had accidentally hurt Pouncival’s feelings and I wanted to apologize. When I got there Asparagus and Tumblebrutus were heading out for a job, so they said hello to me. Then I talked to Pouncival and cleared things up, and then Jellylorum made me stay for dinner. Old Gus kept telling stories, and he made Etcetera do acting exercises with him, even though he kept insulting her.” 

“Okay,” Demeter said, utterly baffled as to where this story was going. “So?” 

“ _So,_ don’t you think it’s weird that all of a sudden we know so many people?” 

“Not really.” Demeter shrugged. “I love this town. It’s a really nice community.” 

“Exactly,” Bombalurina said. She inhaled deeply. “But I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I just… okay, I kept trying to drive Munkustrap away. And I’ve been _awful_ to him for the past few weeks, but every morning like clockwork he’s still there.” 

“Why were you trying to drive him away?” Demeter asked softly. 

Bombalurina watched her guardedly. After a beat, she tossed her head. “Because he was annoying me. No other reason than the whims of my own fancy.” 

Demeter hummed noncommittally. She thought she knew the real reason Bombalurina had been trying to drive Munkustrap away, and it had nothing to do with her sister’s flights of fancy and everything to do with her ferocious loyalty. 

She reached out to squeeze Bombalurina’s hand. They drank their milkshakes. 

“All you have to do is say the word,” Demeter said. “And we’ll leave.” 

Bombalurina took her hand back from Demeter. “I don’t want to leave. That’s the thing. We’ve made so many connections in Jellicle -- actual, meaningful relationships. But if there ever is a time where we have to leave, it would… it would just hurt a lot more.” 

“That’s true,” Demeter said quietly. “But I’m choosing to make those connections anyway.” 

“How, though? One time you thought our gym teacher was mad at you so you hid in the bathroom for the whole period! How are you able to choose this so easily?” 

Demeter frowned. “Ms. Prat hated me, you know that. And I’m not saying it’s easy. It’s an adjustment for me, too. But I don’t want to let the fear of getting hurt stop me from enjoying the love that’s in our lives now. I mean, do _you_ want to tell Jenny that you’re not coming to bridge night because you’re afraid that someday you might have to move to a different town?”

“No,” Bombalurina said sullenly. 

“And even if we did have to leave,” Demeter continued. “There’s no way that all of our friendships would be destroyed. Look me in the eyes and tell me that Tugger would let us slip into old age without ever going to another one of his live shows.” 

Bombalurina laughed. “Yeah, I guess that would be too good to be true.” 

Demeter held out a french fry to her sister, who accepted the gift begrudgingly. Bombalurina sighed and dipped the fry into her own shake, then popped it into her mouth. She made a face. 

“I still think it’s gross.” 

“It’s not gross. You must be eating it wrong.” 

“What? How am I eating it wrong?” 

Demeter argued, “You have to get more of the milkshake on there in order to --” 

“No,” Bombalurina spoke over her, “Because the fry gets soggy and you lose all the crispness.” 

The faux-argument broke off when both of them started to laugh. 

Demeter smiled at her sister. “Are you feeling a little better?” 

“I am, actually. Thanks for helping me.” 

“Anytime.” Both of their drinks were finished, and the bored waitress was eyeing their table suspiciously. Demeter asked, “Ready to go?” 

“Yeah,” Bombalurina said. She waved the girl over to their table for the check. “Yeah, let’s go home.”


	3. Two Separate Parties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, thanks for being patient with the update. I've been pretty sick along with adjusting to online learning, so I didn't have the energy to post last week. 
> 
> For the reasons above, this is kind of a filler chapter while I work on the monstrosity that is chapter 4. The final chapter (!) should be up next week on the usual day.

Demeter woke her sister up by throwing open Bombalurina’s curtains and singing, “Happy birthday…” 

“Oh, God!” Bombalurina exclaimed, and launched a pillow at her sister. 

“I thought you’d be excited,” Demeter protested, narrowly dodging the pillow that had been thrown at her head. “You love your birthday!” 

“I used to. Now I’m just one year closer to death!” Bombalurina said melodramatically. “Let me sleep until it’s not my birthday anymore.” 

“One year closer to death, huh? Well, I hope you’re willing to take care of me in my old age.” 

“Cut it out,” Bombalurina said. 

“No, I passed the thirty mark two years ago. According to you, I should have one foot in the grave!” Demeter sat on her sister. “Please find a good retirement home for me. One with a lot of old, hot bachelors whose wives are all dead.” 

Bombalurina shoved her. 

“Hey!” Demeter caught herself on the covers before she could fall totally off the bed. “I guess this means you don’t want your birthday pancakes, then. Jenny will be crushed.” 

Suspiciously, Bomba sat up. “Birthday pancakes?” 

“Yeah, she’s been working on them all morning. The kids all made theirs into fun shapes.” 

“Huh. What kind of pancakes?” 

Demeter smirked. “You’ll have to come downstairs and find out.” 

A few hours later, Demeter stood behind her sister as Bombalurina perched on the bathtub ledge, helping her dye the back of her head. Bombalurina was singing along softly to the ABBA song playing from her phone’s speakers. 

The moment was so peaceful and easy that Demeter didn’t want to ruin it, but she wanted to bring up what was on her mind. 

“So, back to brown at last. It’ll look really good,” she started. “There’s a lot of changes happening right now, though.” 

Bombalurina shrugged. Her eyes were still closed. 

Demeter said gently, “I found a copy of your application to Heaviside’s cosmetology school in your trash.” 

Her sister opened her eyes. In the mirror, they looked at each other. 

“Is this what all the hubbub about you being old is about?” Demeter asked. Her voice was still calm, still quiet in hopes that she wouldn’t upset her sister. They had been fighting too much recently. 

“Jennyanydots finally convinced me to send in an application,” Bombalurina sighed. “But I messed up the first copy so I had to redo it. Do you think it’s dumb?” 

“No, of course not!” Demeter said hastily. “If it makes you happy, you should go for it.” 

“Thanks, Deme.” Bombalurina smiled knowingly. “I was going to tell you eventually, you know. But I wanted to wait to see if I got in or not.” 

“Oh.” That did make her feel a little better. “When do you find out?” 

“They’ll tell me in a month or so.” 

“You’ll be fine. If they don’t accept you, they’re idiots and they don’t deserve you. And if they do accept you, then… you get to try something new.” 

“Thanks, I guess.” She shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t like working at the coffee shop, I just don’t know if there’s something else I want to do with my life.” 

“I know,” Demeter said. “We can figure it out when the time comes. I’m finished back here, by the way.” 

“Great.” Bombalurina smiled. “Are we doing anything else for my birthday?” 

“Oh, _now_ you want to celebrate your birthday.” Demeter laughed. “Luckily, I might have something planned." 

When they pulled up to Old Deuteronomy’s house, Bombalurina had to admit that she was slightly surprised by Demeter’s choice of venue. She had assumed they would be going into Heaviside, because although Jellicle was a warm community, Etcetera had been right when she complained that there was almost nothing to do in the small town. But Demeter led her into the backyard, which contained many of their friends and many bottles of alcohol. 

Tumblebrutus had carpooled with them and he followed them into the yard, carefully holding the sheet cake he had made. Cassandra took the cake from him quickly, as though she were worried he would drop it, and set it out of the way of the well-wishers crowding around Bombalurina. 

The party consisted of the younger Jellicle adults they were friends with, although a few of the kids who were over twenty-one were there as well. Bombalurina wouldn’t have minded if the younger kids such as Jemima or Pouncival had joined them (Jemima was twenty, after all), but she got the feeling that Munkustrap and Alonzo had put their foot down on that issue. 

Still, it was a nice group of people who had turned out to celebrate her birthday. Coricopat and Tantomile told Bombalurina that an allergic reaction was in her future and pressed a salve they had made themselves onto her. She accepted their odd blessing with a smile. 

“Happy birthday,” Mistoffelees said, and pulled a gift card out of Bombalurina’s hair. “Old Deut gave us the house for a couple hours, so we can go as crazy as we want to.” 

“Thanks!” Bombalurina inspected the card and found the words _Roasted Memories_ printed on it. “This is to my own shop, you nit.”

He smirked wickedly at her. “And now you can save ten dollars there!” 

“Ten dollars?” She lunged for him, laughing. “Get back here!” 

Mistoffelees yelped in alarm and bounded away towards George. “Love you!” 

She followed him, then stopped short when she saw who he was standing near. “Oh. Hey.” 

Tugger’s eyes had gone wide when he saw Bombalurina. He choked out, “Hair.” 

“It looks good, right?” Bombalurina smiled, tossed her newly-brown hair over her shoulder, and didn’t wait for an answer before walking away towards her sister. 

Sympathetically, George patted Tugger on the shoulder. 

“You planned all this?” Bombalurina asked Demeter, giving her a hug.

“Well, I had some help,” Demeter said, and Bombalurina took note of the way she and Munkustrap smiled at each other. 

“It’s wonderful. Thank you.” 

Demeter’s cheeks were already flushed slightly from her drink, giving her a permanently cheerful expression, but she frowned. “Actually, there’s something else--”

She was cut off by a car honking obnoxiously at the front of the house. 

“And there they are,” Demeter said, her expression clearing. 

Bombalurina turned around, curious, and found Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer dashing towards her at full speed. 

The twins clasped their arms around her, shouting over one another exuberantly. 

“Happy--”

“-- birthday! I can’t believe we almost --” 

“-- forgot but Demeter called us and also --”

“-- don’t have a gift for you but --” 

“-- our presence is gift enough!” 

They grinned at her like two matching Cheshire cats. 

Bombalurina laughed. “I can’t believe you’re here! It’s so good to see you!” 

“You too,” Mungojerrie said, and smacked a kiss onto the corner of her mouth. “You look good.” 

Bombalurina swatted him away, only to have Rumpleteazer giggle and do the same to her other cheek. 

She swiped at her lips exaggeratedly. “I see you two haven’t changed a bit. Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.” 

The party continued on. Plato and Tugger won a game of Flip Cup against Victoria and Coricopat, who immediately called for a rematch and forced Mistoffelees onto their team. The rest of the friends ended up watching and cheering for their favorite team, or sitting on the grass in a circle listening to the twins tell a wild story about their exploits as car salesmen. 

Demeter felt happy and light. The spice from Munkustrap’s cologne tickled her nose, or maybe it was his shampoo. She didn’t know -- but she liked it. To keep herself from leaning over and sniffing his hair the way her body was urging her to, she moved to her other side and rested her head on Bombalurina’s shoulder. 

Cassandra, one of the more sober people among them, suddenly frowned at Mungojerrie as he finished his story. “Wait, can you do that again?” 

“Do what again?” 

“Just walk. Go to the trash can and back.” 

Nervously, Mungojerrie did as she asked. 

Cassandra nodded. “That’s what I thought. Did you sprain your ankle recently? Or any other kind of injury to your foot?” 

Rumpleteazer cackled. “He did! Go on, tell the pretty lady how you hurt yourself.” 

Mungojerrie scowled at his sister. “Shut up.” 

Cassandra raised her eyebrows. 

“Yeah, I did.” Mungojerrie sighed, giving in. “I was… skateboarding.” 

Rumpleteazer prompted, “And?” 

“I hate you. _And_ I tried to do a parkour trick up the side of a dumpster while on the skateboard. I fell off and slipped on a trash bag.” 

The way Alonzo was pressing his lips together suggested he was trying very hard not to laugh. 

“Your life is like a slapstick comedy routine,” Demeter said in wonder. “How are you still alive?” 

Cassandra sat down and gestured for Mungojerrie to do the same. “Take off your shoes, I want to look at your ankle.” 

He obeyed, although he still looked wary, as though he were waiting for the catch. 

Cassandra prodded his ankle for a few minutes, then said, “That’s what I thought. I’m a physical therapist. You should come by my office next week so you don’t cause more permanent damage to it.” 

“Ah,” Mungojerrie said. 

Rumpleteazer said, “See, we would --”

“But we don’t have health insurance.” 

Cassandra inspected the two of them for a moment, then looked at Alonzo. He shrugged. 

“In that case,” she said evenly, “You should come over to our place tomorrow. We can hang out and do some exercises on our own time.” 

Mungojerrie blinked. “Really?” 

“We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Cassandra didn’t wait for an answer before she pushed herself up from the ground. “I’m going to get another drink. This was a good talk.” 

The twins stared at her as she walked away. They looked baffled. 

Rumpleteazer remarked, “That was… weird. She would just invite us over, even though she doesn’t know us?” 

Mungojerrie said to Alonzo, “Your wife is kind of scary.” 

“I know,” Alonzo said proudly. 

Bombalurina slung her arms around the twins’ shoulders. “Welcome to Jellicle, babes. Let’s get crazy.” 

“And you’re positive we don’t have to bring anything?” Mungojerrie asked for the second time. 

Demeter smiled fondly. “I’m sure.” 

Rumpleteazer said excitedly, “The internet told us to bring flowers or chocolates, but I thought that was weird so I talked Mungojerrie out of it. They’re not going to think we’re weird for not bringing anything, right?” 

“They might think the amount of energy you have today is weird,” Demeter said, wincing. “But they won’t care about whether you bring a gift or not. Do you think you could be a little quieter?” 

Munkustrap opened the door and stood back for the twins to barrel inside. “Hey. I like your sunglasses.” 

“Thanks,” Demeter said. “You look awful.” 

“It’s nice to see you too.” 

Cassandra was in the process of creating a workspace in the living room. She greeted the newcomers and enlisted their help in moving the coffee table back. 

“So, what are you going to do to his foot?” Rumpleteazer sat on the arm of the couch and tapped her foot with nervous energy. 

“Nothing drastic,” Cassandra said calmly. “Just a few basic exercises. But I would appreciate it if the rest of you could give us the apartment for an hour or so.” 

Rumpleteazer glanced at her brother, who nodded. 

“Go, it’s okay.” Mungojerrie said. 

As the door shut behind her twin, Rumpleteazer looked a little lost. Demeter brushed her arm lightly against the younger woman’s. 

“We could go see a movie or something,” Munkustrap suggested. 

“That sounds good,” Rumpleteazer said, regaining some of her cheer. “Are you paying, fancy pants?” 

Munkustrap heaved a put-upon sigh. “I really don’t know why everyone thinks I have so much money. I work in insurance, it’s not like I’m loaded.” 

Rumpleteazer shrugged. “I’m not hearing the word no.” 

Demeter smiled at Munkustrap. 

“Yes, fine,” he said, pretending to be more exasperated than he actually was. Truthfully, he found the twins charming. “I’ll pay.” 

Rumpleteazer whooped in delight. “Race you down the stairs! Last one to the car is a rotten egg!” 

“How does she have that much energy?” Munkustrap complained. “She drank more than we did yesterday.” 

“I have no idea,” Demeter sighed. “Will you accept the title of rotten egg with me?” 

Munkustrap said, “It would be my honor,” and they made their way down the stairwell at a normal pace. 

Tumblebrutus was losing soundly in Egyptian Ratscrew when Jennyanydots bustled by them. She was dressed up more than she usually was at this time of night and clearly trying to avoid eye contact. 

With their house mother acting so suspiciously, how could the game not be paused in order to watch her? 

“You look nice, Ma,” Tumblebrutus said with only the slightest glint of mischief in his eye. 

Jennyanydots jumped and blushed. “Thank you, dear.” 

Electra looked up from her book, grinning. “Going somewhere?” 

“Oh, just to the craft maker’s conference in Heaviside. Remember, I told you yesterday that I would be away this weekend?” 

“Going to a craft maker’s conference? At this time of night?” Bombalurina feigned shock. 

Jenny put her hands on her hips and looked sternly at them. “Now that you’ve all had your fun, I would like to remind you that I am a grown woman, and don’t have to answer to any of you.” 

Her children hastily looked away, but Bombalurina hadn’t grown up under Jennyanydots’ thumb and thus was less susceptible to her discipline. Abandoning the card game (much to Tumblebrutus’ relief), she stood up and twined her arm through the older woman’s. “Oh, don’t be angry with us, Jenny. We’re excited for you!” 

The front door opened with a bang, and Demeter and Jemima tumbled in, shaking the water from their clothes and hair. 

“It’s disgusting outside!” Demeter exclaimed. “I hate the rain.” 

Momentarily distracted, Bombalurina turned to frown at the newcomers. “I told you guys to take the car. But you said, no, it’s fine, we want to walk! We never believe Bombalurina when she tells us it’s going to storm later!” 

Demeter grumbled and flicked water droplets at her sister. 

“Wow Jennyanydots,” Jemima said, “you look great! What’s the occasion?” 

“Thank you, my dear,” Jenny laughed. “Now, while I’m away, don’t forget that Demeter is in charge.” 

“Oh,” Demeter said nervously. “I don’t think…” 

“You’ll do splendidly, darling. There’s no need to be anxious. The kids will all behave for you, won’t they?” Hearing no response, Jennyanydots turned to level an impressive look at the younger members of the house. “ _Won’t they_?” 

“Yes, Mom.” Her children chorused, with Jemima piping in her own, “Yes, Jenny.” 

“Is Bustopher Jones driving you into Heaviside?” Bombalurina asked, still looking for gossip to revel in. 

“He is not,” Jennyanydots said primly. “I’m driving myself tonight.” 

Bombalurina gave up, and leaned in to kiss Jenny’s cheek. “Well, have a good trip. Drive safe.” 

Jenny gave and received hugs to the rest of the family. “I love you all, be good for Demeter! See you on Monday!” 

When she was gone, Tumblebrutus turned to Bombalurina. “I don’t want to play Egyptian Ratscrew anymore. You cheat.” 

“Hey, I’m winning fair and square. You’re just a sore loser.” 

“Can I join you guys?” Jemima asked. “I’m in the mood for a good family game night.” 

The three of them sat around the coffee table and began to squabble over what game they should play. 

Demeter’s phone chimed to alert her that she had a text. She dug it out and smiled as she read it. 

Electra asked, “Who are you texting?” 

“Mun-- uh, no one. Why don’t we join the card game?” 

“Okay,” Electra said. She grinned. “Let’s play Go Fish!” 

“But you always win Go Fish!” Tumblebrutus protested. 

“Exactly,” Electra said happily, and took her spot by the table next to Demeter. 

Tumblebrutus groaned dramatically. “I am never going to win anything ever again, am I?” 

Jemima patted him on the arm. “Won’t know unless you try.” 

He sighed, but began to deal out the cards. 

“Morning,” Electra yawned as she came downstairs. 

Demeter was putting away the Monopoly board they had left out last night. “Good morning.” 

From outside, someone yelled, “From the hills of Minnesota where the rippling waters fall! No chances to be taken on the Wabash Cannonball!” 

“What _is_ that?” Electra asked. 

Demeter shrugged. “It started up about three minutes ago. I figured maybe one of the neighbors is getting serenaded.” 

“On a Saturday morning? People are ridiculous.” 

The sound from outside stopped, and both of them breathed a sigh of relief. Electra headed into the kitchen to pour herself some cereal, and Demeter followed her. 

Jemima thumped down the stairs, nodded at the two of them, and grabbed a banana for her own breakfast. 

The sound in the street started up again. This time, the voice seemed to rise and fall like a song. “Listen to the jingle, the rumble and the roar! As she glides along the woodlands, o’er the hills, and by the shore!” 

Jemima screamed, threw down her banana, and raced for the door. “Skimbleshanks!” 

“What?” Demeter asked, but Electra gasped and quickly followed her friend. With no other option, Demeter headed for the door as well. She got there just in time to see Jemima leap off the porch and into the arms of someone singing at the top of his lungs. The man laughed and swung her around in the air. 

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Jemima was yelling. 

“We wanted it to be a surprise!” The man said. His Scottish accent added a slight lilt to his words. “Your ears are getting sloppy, starlight. I got through two whole verses before you heard me!” 

She laughed. “Maybe you weren’t singing loud enough!” 

Jennyanydots was leaning against the car and watching fondly. “I don’t see how that’s possible. My eardrums nearly burst!” 

Skimbleshanks saw Electra hovering nearby and moved over to give her a crushing hug as well. “Good to see you, Electra! Have you been taking care of your mom for me?” 

“I try,” Electra said. “She doesn’t always let me.” 

Skimble winked. “We’ll have to team up against her now that I’m back.” 

Jemima bounced up and down on the pavement. “How long are you staying?” 

“Oh, until the itch hits me again… but I thought I would stay for the rest of the summer. How does that sound to you, starlight?” 

Jemima nodded, beaming. 

Skimbleshanks now turned his sharp eyes towards Demeter. “Hello, there. I don’t believe we’ve met.” 

Demeter introduced herself and moved forward to shake his hand, but Skimbleshanks opened his arms for a hug. 

“Hang on now, darling,” Jennyanydots cautioned. “Demeter doesn’t always like to be touched.” 

Skimble’s smile didn’t falter. He said, “In that case, I will shake your hand very firmly!” and did so. 

“Does Old Deuteronomy know that you’re here yet?” Electra asked. 

“Not yet,” Skimbleshanks said, and winked at them all. 

Jemima hugged her foster father again. “Oh, he’s going to be so excited!”

The old man himself walked into _Roasted Memories_ at 5:20 later that same day. Demeter was busy checking the waste log for the day (thankfully, there wasn’t much to report) and didn’t look up before saying, “I’m sorry, we’re closed.” 

“I know that,” Old Deuteronomy said. “I’m your chauffeur for the evening.” 

Demeter hastily jumped up when she saw who had walked in and wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t -- how are you today, sir? I can’t offer you anything to drink right now, but I could find you a pastry from the back?” 

He laughed kindly. “No need, Demeter. And I don’t know where you and your sister picked up this ‘sir’ business, but it’s really not necessary. You can call me Old Deuteronomy, everyone does.” 

Demeter shrugged. Even though his own sons called him by that name, to her it still felt disrespectful. 

“Well, it’s your choice. Jennyanydots tasked us to come and pick you up. Apparently she’s planning some sort of dinner?” Old Deuteronomy patted his ample stomach. “I haven’t eaten anything all day in preparation.” 

George and Munkustrap tumbled into the shop, battened about by the wind. Demeter glanced up at the sky. It had been threatening to storm all day, but the rain was still holding off, and instead was turning the world dark gray. 

“I couldn’t find any parking,” Munkustrap said, sounding slightly out of breath, “because the twins next door are holding... well, honestly it looks like a seance. So I’m two blocks away, we’re going to have to walk. Hi.” 

Demeter smiled back at him. “Hi.” 

George waved enthusiastically. “Hi!” 

Demeter had never quite connected with George. They were polite acquaintances, but he seemed to be a little too much like her -- quiet in crowds, reserved with strangers, content to watch the hijinks rather than leap to take part in them -- for them to have had any meaningful interactions yet. However, Demeter was determined to change that. “Um, would you like a cookie? I was going to take it home to Tumblebrutus, but if you want it…?” 

George’s eyes grew comically wide. “I would _love_ a cookie.” 

“We’re going to dinner in, like, two minutes,” Munkustrap muttered to his father, who shushed him. 

Demeter dug the plastic-wrapped treat from her bag. “I should warn you that it’s a little stale. Okay, it’s stale enough that we technically can’t sell it anymore.” 

Nevertheless, George accepted the package as if she were handing him the world’s most precious jewel. He breathed, “Thank you!” and reverently took a bite. 

“Demeter,” said Old Deuteronomy, “What can we do to help you finish closing up?” 

Under his watchful eye, the younger adults stacked the chairs on top of their little tables. Old Deuteronomy tried to help, but Munkustrap scolded him until Demeter stepped in with a handful of coffee creamers for the old man to set out for the next morning. The men swept and mopped the floor while Demeter dealt with the cash register. 

By 5:45, they were done. 

“That’s so much faster with three people,” Demeter mused as she locked the door behind them. 

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” George said, munching happily on his cookie. 

Old Deuteronomy smiled. “Ah, a classic Munk saying.” 

Demeter gave them both a curious look. “What’s a Munk saying?” 

Munkustrap said, “Oh, we don’t need to...”

“It’s one of Munkustrap’s motivational sayings,” George explained. “Like, ‘Do your best, forget the rest,’ or ‘Tugger, stop doing that.’ A lot of them rhyme.” 

“... tell her about the sayings,” Munkustrap finished, belatedly. He looked up at the rain clouds as though hoping that lightning would strike him dead on the spot.

Demeter laughed. “Wow.” 

“It’s a play on the word ‘monk,’” George went on. “What’s the one he says about mistakes, Dad?” 

Old Deuteronomy thought for a moment. “Forget the mistake, remember the lesson. I believe that one came from me first, actually.” 

George listed some of his other favorite sayings until they arrived at the car. Demeter was laughing. She definitely should have befriended George earlier, if only to get the dirt on Munkustrap. 

“Thank God,” Munkustrap said, and herded his little brother into the backseat before George could embarrass him any more. 

Old Deuteronomy twisted around in the passenger seat as his oldest son began to drive. “Demeter, would you like to hear about the play Munkustrap wrote when he was a little boy?” 

“Yes,” Demeter said, smiling as though Christmas had come early. 

Munkustrap sighed. 

They headed to Jellylorum’s house, where Demeter found that the backyard was completely transformed. Someone had put together a collection of differently-shaped card tables, which were covered in three different tablecloths and groaning with dishes of food. Alonzo, George, and Plato were setting up various folding chairs around the tables, while Cassandra supervised. 

“I’ll light the candles!” Pouncival was saying eagerly as they walked into the yard, but Jellylorum quickly grabbed the hand with which he was holding the box of matches. 

“No, you won’t! Give those to Victoria.” 

“Aw, why?” 

“Because I trust her more,” Jellylorum told her son snarkily. 

“Oh, wow,” Demeter breathed. “This looks beautiful.” 

Old Deuteronomy surveyed the scene. “Jellylorum really outdid herself.” 

Remembering her task for the evening, Demeter headed towards the house. She found Jenny in the kitchen and said, “Our guest of honor’s here.” 

“Oh, how wonderful!” Jennyanydots smoothed her hands excitedly on her apron and called Skimbleshanks’ name. 

Skimbleshanks opened the back door just as Old Deuteronomy mounted the steps to come inside the house. When they saw each other, the whole yard was treated to Old Deuteronomy’s booming laugh. Jennyanydots smiled. 

Skimbleshanks said, “You’ve got a few more white hairs than when I saw you last!” 

“Oh no, not me!” Old Deuteronomy joked. “Your vision must be going, old friend!” 

The two men guffawed and slapped each other on the back in a tight hug. 

Soon enough, everyone was seated at the card tables and Jenny’s food was being devoured with gusto. Although it was a tight fit, the group managed with only minimal amounts of knocking into their neighbor’s arms as they ate. Pouncival and Tumblebrutus almost got into a fight because of the elbowing, but Alonzo stepped in and switched seats with Pouncival before the boys could come to blows. 

Without much prompting, Gus began to tell one of his long, winding stories that took place during the height of his acting career. It was a tale everyone had heard before, but they listened politely or carried on a new conversation with their neighbors under their breath. 

“Here’s what I’m still confused about,” Bombalurina muttered to Demeter. She nodded towards the other end of the table, where Jennyanydots was blushing her way through a conversation with Bustopher Jones. “If Jenny has been sleeping with Skimbleshanks pretty consistently for the past decade or so, what’s the deal with her and BJ?” 

Demeter shrugged. “Now that you mention it, I’m not sure. Remember when we thought they were an item a few months ago?” 

“Are you two talking about Bustopher Jones? He’s great, isn’t he?” Unbeknownst to them, Skimbleshanks had joined the conversation. He followed their gaze to Jennyanydots and smiled proudly. “Ah, that’s my Jenny-girl.” 

Bombalurina frowned. “You’re not mad? Or… jealous?” 

“Jealous?” Skimbleshanks laughed. “Of course not! Who doesn’t have a crush on Bustopher Jones?” 

Asparagus leaned over and raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “I’m Team Bustopher all the way. He’s quite the bachelor.” 

Etcetera made a grossed-out face. 

Munkustrap whispered a joke into Demeter’s ear. She laughed and nudged him with her shoulder, then looked up to see that Old Deuteronomy was watching them. Hastily, Demeter looked away. 

In the middle of dinner, the skies opened up. The rain fell with a vengeance and the party turned into chaos. The kids shrieked and immediately ran for cover, but Munkustrap caught Plato by the arm and directed him towards the platters of food. Alonzo urged George and Etcetera to do the same. 

When the dishes were lifted, the tablecloths flapped violently and flew to freedom. Bombalurina and Demeter joined Jellylorum as the matron tried to catch the tablecloths whirling through the air. 

Rather than helping his brothers save the food, Tugger chose to snag a tablecloth and hold it over his father’s head. He ushered Jennyanydots and Victoria underneath it as well. 

“I can’t believe the rain ruined everything,” Jellylorum moaned once they were all inside the house. Pouncival was inspecting the dishes of food, and declaring that he would still eat them. Bustopher Jones said approvingly that a little rainwater never hurt anyone. 

Asparagus put his arm around his wife and gestured to the room around them. “What’s ruined?” 

Jellylorum looked around. Cassandra was perched on the counter with Alonzo standing between her legs. The couple was talking to Coricopat and Tantomile. As Jellylorum watched, Tantomile calmly picked a bug out of her drink, set it on the windowsill, and then raised the cup to her lips again. 

The rest of the party had split off into groups as well, crowded around whatever available surface they could find. Some were still eating, some were simply choosing to talk amongst themselves. The bright laughter that rang from these clusters of people filled the house with a cacophony of cheerful sound. 

Jellylorum’s attention was caught by the sound of music as Jemima began tuning one of Gus’ old guitars. Next to her, Etcetera dusted off the flute she had played in eighth grade band and yelled, “Tumblebrutus! C’mere, I found Pounce’s old trumpet for you to play!” 

Intrigued, Skimbleshanks wandered over. Mistoffelees followed, lending his arm to Old Gus. 

Jellylorum smiled and leaned into Asparagus’ side. “You might be right, dear. I suppose that ‘ruined’ is too strong of a word.”

Asparagus kissed her cheek. The couple headed over to participate in the singalong that the kids were leading, stepping fully into the warmth and cheer emanating from their family. 

“Demeter,” Old Deuteronomy said, “Will you help me out to the porch?” 

She was a little surprised that he would ask her instead of one of his sons, but accepted the honor and gave him her arm to lean on. When they were outside, Old Deuteronomy sat down on the porch swing and sighed. Demeter joined him. 

They sat in easy silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally Old Deuteronomy said, “I love the rain, don’t you? It makes the whole world look peaceful.” 

He seemed to be waiting for a response, so Demeter confessed, “I don’t really like it. Actually, I hate being rained on -- I get cold so easily.” 

Old Deuteronomy chuckled. “Well, to each their own.” 

A gray car drove past, its windshield wipers moving quickly. They watched the car go by. 

Old Deuteronomy said, “I’m glad that my son can loosen up around you.” 

The new topic was so unexpected that Demeter blushed, which made the old man smile as though she had confirmed his intuition. 

He continued, “It’s a good thing. Munkustrap carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, you know.” 

Demeter said softly, “I know.” 

“He has ever since he was fifteen. So when I see him smiling or with stars in his eyes, it makes me proud to know the person who’s causing that.” 

It felt like the rain outside was gathering inside Demeter’s lungs and filling them up. She nodded, unable to speak. 

“Well, that’s all I wanted to say.” She could tell that he was trying to lighten the mood, but now Old Deuteronomy looked a little uncertain that he might have said the wrong thing. “I hope I didn’t scare you away.”

Demeter said, “I don’t think that’s possible, sir. And I’ve really appreciated our talk… Old Deuteronomy.” 

Her use of his name made the old man smile broadly. In that moment, he looked very much like Munkustrap. 

The front door opened, and Tugger came outside. “Hey, I was wondering where you guys went. Can I cut in?” 

“Be my guest.” Demeter stood so Tugger could take her place on the seat next to his father. “We were just watching the rain.” 

“I enjoyed our conversation, Demeter,” Old Deuteronomy said. “I suspect I’ll be seeing you again soon.” 

She smiled, then walked back into the house to join the party. 

An old woman made her way up to the coffee shop, pulling up the hood of her coat in a futile effort to keep the rain away from her face. She rifled in her bag for the key, muttering darkly to herself about the miserable weather as she did so. The owner finally found her key, unlocked the door, and went inside.


	4. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, thank you for all of the support with this story! I had so much fun writing it and I really appreciate you all. 
> 
> I also wanted to provide a warning for this chapter: The Macavity Fight occurs about halfway through, where Macavity shows up and tries to attack Demeter. If that's not something you want to read, the scene begins with the phrase "When Munkustrap came a few hours later, Demeter warned him quietly..." and lasts until the next section break.

“What are you reading?”

The coffee shop was empty. Demeter had already checked the back for any expired products and cleaned the fridge -- with nothing else to do, she had decided to bother Munkustrap, who was sitting in the cafe to keep her company. 

He looked up and showed her the cover of his book. “American Civil War book. I’ve read it before, it’s really good.” 

“Will you read to me? If you wouldn’t mind, that is.” 

Munkustrap looked pleased. “Sure! Do you want me to start from the beginning?” 

“Anything’s fine. I don't want you to lose your place, so you can keep reading from where you are now.” 

“It's okay. I’ll start from the beginning,” He decided, and flipped the book back to its first page. He cleared his throat. “‘ _Monday, June 29, 1863. Chapter One: The spy._

“ _He rode into the dark of the woods and dismounted_ . _He crawled upward on his belly over cool rocks out into the sunlight, and suddenly he was in the open and he could see for miles, and there was the whole vast army before him, filling the valley like a smoking river_.’” 

Demeter grinned, feeling goosebumps make their way up her arm. Munkustrap had a voice made for story-telling. She settled down and listened intently. 

The chapters were short, and they made their way through them quickly enough. Munkustrap was reading about the mutinous, war-sick Maine regiment when a customer came in wearing nurse’s scrubs. 

“Why’d you stop?” Demeter asked as she poured the coffee. “I want to know what happens!” 

The nurse started, clearly wondering if Demeter was talking to her, but Munkustrap smiled widely and began to read again. 

He kept going as the minutes ticked by, not seeming to notice the way his voice was growing hoarse. At 5:00, Demeter flipped the sign on the door over to CLOSED and set a bottle of water in front of him. “Drink.” 

Munkustrap took it gratefully. He read as she closed for the night, standing by the door to avoid her mop and broom. He read as she set up for the opener tomorrow and locked the doors, and he read as they found themselves standing chest to chest in the yellow circle of a streetlight, neither of them willing to leave until he finished the chapter. 

“‘ _Lee looked at his watch_ ,” Munkustrap said. “‘ _Not quite ten in the morning. He left Longstreet and rode toward the sound of the guns_.’” 

Demeter sucked in her breath. 

Munkustrap emerged from the world of the Civil War and smiled at her. “Pretty good, right?” 

“Yes! I can see why you like it so much.” 

He dog-eared the page where they had stopped and held the book out to her. “Do you want to borrow it?” 

“Sure. I’m not as fast as a reader as you are, though. It might take me longer to get through it.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Munkustrap said. His eyes were soft. “Take as much time as you need.” 

The way he was looking at Demeter made her whole body feel warm. A little desperately, she said, “Are we still talking about the book?” 

Munkustrap breathed out a laugh. He looked as if he didn’t know the answer, either, and stepped back from her. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.” 

Feeling a confusing mix of relief and disappointment, Demeter followed him to the car. 

“Hey guys,” Bombalurina called to Pouncival and Tumblebrutus as they hurried out of Jenny’s house. “What are you doing with those… three cartons of eggs?” 

A car pulled up to the curb, and Etcetera leaned out of the window. “Did you get them?” 

“Yep!” Pouncival called. “And this batch expired last week!” 

Electra shut the front door behind her. “Oh, that’s a nice touch.” 

“Thank you!” Pouncival said proudly. “I thought so too.” 

“I’m so curious now.” Bombalurina smiled winningly at Tumblebrutus. “Please tell me what you’re planning.” 

The young man puffed up his chest. “Well, you know how Victoria’s a dance major? And she could be a really good ballerina one day.” 

“But,” Pouncival interrupted. “This one visiting instructor was really mean to her. Like, unnecessarily rude and ignorant.” 

“So we’re going to egg his car!” Etcetera yelled. 

“Very cool,” Bombalurina said, impressed. “Do you need a getaway driver?” 

“Etcetera’s got it covered,” Tumblebrutus said. 

Etcetera waved at them. 

“Oh.” Bombalurina looked disappointed. “Well, hey! Can I come with you?” 

“No,” Demeter said without looking up from her book. 

Bombalurina frowned at her older sister. “But--”

“You are an _adult_ ,” Demeter said. “You have a _job._ If you got arrested, it could actually affect your life.” 

Bombalurina pouted. “You never let me do anything fun.” 

She stormed inside, and the kids looked awkwardly at each other. 

Demeter flipped a page, and said, “You know, I hear coffee’s a bitch to get out of upholstery.” 

Electra grinned. “I hope this visiting instructor didn’t leave his windows open.” 

The car full of friends peeled away, its occupants whooping wildly. Demeter shook her head and kept reading. 

Sunday morning found Munkustrap following his foster siblings into _Roasted Memories_ , waving wearily to the sisters working as Mistoffelees read off their lengthy order. 

Victoria pointed at the display case. “Is that new?” 

“Yes,” Demeter sighed. “We’re selling donuts now.” 

Munkustrap looked at her curiously. “You don’t sound too happy about it.” 

Demeter lowered her voice. “It wasn’t my idea. Truthfully, I think it’s a useless endeavor -- it’s more money that we’re spending and not getting back. Donuts go stale so quickly, I feel like people won’t be able to eat enough of them that we actually make money.”

Victoria had been watching avidly, trying to follow along with their conversation by reading Demeter’s lips. Now, she signed and Munkustrap interpreted for her. “You won’t know unless you try, right?” 

Demeter smiled at her. “Maybe.” 

Bombalurina passed the order receipt along, and Demeter turned to make the drinks. 

Mistoffelees looked down at his copy of the receipt in confusion. “This isn’t my name.” 

Bombalurina pointed. “It’s his.” 

“Let me see that,” Munkustrap frowned. 

“‘Muskustrap?’” Mistoffelees cackled and passed the paper along to his sister so she could share in on the joke. 

“It’s a smaller order today,” Bombalurina commented as she went to help her sister prepare the drinks. “Your dad’s not going?” 

Mistoffelees shook his head. “Old Deut’s got a cold. It’s nothing serious, but he decided to stay home.” 

Victoria signed, “We’re here, though! George’s hockey game isn’t going to watch itself!” 

Demeter put George’s hot chocolate and the black coffee on the counter. “The chai latte’s coming.” 

There was a crash from the back room, followed by a shortened curse word. Demeter and Bombalurina looked at each other and rolled their eyes. 

“You okay in there?” Bombalurina called. 

“Is Jemima working with you today?” Mistoffelees asked in confusion. “I thought you usually try to trade off shifts.” 

His question was answered as the door to the back room swung open, and an old woman walked out. 

“I’m fine,” She said. “Dropped a container of tea right on my foot, but…”

Demeter shook her head. “You need to be more careful, Grizabella. You’re lucky that it didn’t break.” 

Grizabella didn’t answer. Her mouth had dropped in shock, and she was staring at Munkustrap as if she had seen a ghost. 

He said, “What are you doing here?”

Vaguely, he registered the girls’ heads whip around, no doubt surprised at his tone. But he couldn’t look away from his stepmother. 

Grizabella drew herself up to her full height. “I own this shop.” 

Munkustrap shook his head. “You don’t.” 

Bombalurina said, “What the hell is going on?” 

The odd staring contest between Munkustrap and Grizabella was broken. 

Mistoffelees was watching curiously. He moved forward and opened his mouth as if to introduce himself, but Munkustrap interrupted him. “You two, go and sit in the car.” 

Victoria protested, “But--” 

“ _Go._ ” 

They went, glancing back at Grizabella as they did. She smiled hesitantly at them. 

“So, no one’s going to tell me how you two know each other?” Bombalurina said to the air. 

Demeter reached out and took her sister’s hand, needing comfort. 

Grizabella said, “You’ve gotten so big, Munkustrap. Do you have a job now?” 

The sisters winced simultaneously. 

Munkustrap’s jaw tightened. “If this is your shop, then where have you been for the last couple months? Demeter and Bombalurina have been running the place, where were you?” 

“That’s not important,” Grizabella said. “Munkustrap, I want you to know that leaving you boys was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I’ve regretted it every day since.” 

He didn’t seem impressed by her speech. “You didn’t come back, though.” 

Grizabella looked at the floor. 

The bell over the door rang, and Tugger entered the shop. He suddenly looked very young. “Misto told me you were here but I didn’t believe him.” 

Grizabella reached out. “My son…!” 

Tugger ignored her and looked at his older brother. His expression hardened into anger. “Why? Why is she here?” 

Munkustrap said, “Tugger--” 

Shaking his head rapidly, Tugger turned and left. He began to jog down the street. 

Bombalurina twitched. 

Demeter squeezed her sister’s hand. “Go.” 

With permission granted, Bombalurina tore off her apron and ran after the Rum Tum Tugger. 

Grizabella looked at Demeter to avoid her stepson’s eyes. “Demeter, are you working on their order?” 

Demeter shot her an offended look. “Yes.” 

“I only wanted to know whether you needed my help,” Grizabella said quietly. 

“It’s fine,” Munkustrap said. “Forget the order.” 

“Are you sure?” Demeter asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine.” He was clearly anxious to get out of there. 

“Wait!” Demeter grabbed an empty cup and then came around to his side of the counter. Before Munkustrap could run away, she handed him his coffee and grabbed the hot chocolate. “I’ll bring this out to the car with you. I know it’s not what Victoria and Misto ordered, but maybe they can split it.”

“Are all of my workers leaving?” Grizabella asked. “What if another customer comes in?” 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Demeter said scathingly. 

She would probably pay later for making that comment to her boss, but it was worth it to see the grateful look on Munkustrap’s face. 

Bombalurina walked up to Jenny’s porch a couple of hours later, looking dazed. 

“You have leaves in your hair,” Demeter said. She patted the seat of the swing next to her. 

“Tugger was lying under a tree when I found him. In the park. So, I joined him.” Bombalurina climbed the steps to sit next to her sister. 

Demeter combed her fingers through Bombalurina’s hair and began to pick out the twigs. 

“He wouldn’t tell me anything. He didn’t want to talk about it. Did Munkustrap say anything to you?” 

Demeter’s hand stilled. Sadly, she said, “No. Bomba, I feel guilty.” 

Bombalurina’s similar feelings were made clear by the way she tossed her head arrogantly. “Well, don’t. No one told us. Maybe if they didn’t have this weird silence ban against Grizabella we would have known sooner, and then we could have avoided this whole nonsense.” 

“Tugger’s lucky to have you as his friend, Bombalurina.” 

“Damn right he is,” Bomba said. “I’m a delight to be around.” 

Demeter picked the last green leaf from her sister’s hair and handed it to her. 

Bombalurina twirled the leaf between her fingers and watched it spin. Her voice was very quiet. “Demeter, are they all going to be mad at us?” 

“Oh. No, baby, they’re not going to be mad.” Demeter hugged her sister tightly and prayed that it was true. “Let’s go inside, okay? I haven’t eaten yet and I’m betting you haven’t, either.” 

Bombalurina nodded, and allowed Demeter to lead her inside. When they got into the living room, however, they suddenly found themselves engulfed in bear hugs from Jennyanydots and Jellylorum. 

“Oh, girls!” Jellylorum said. “Skimbleshanks just told us! Can you believe the nerve of that Grizabella, making you run the shop while she was off gallivanting who-knows-where?” 

Demeter was still trying to process what was happening. “How-- how does Skimbleshanks know?” 

“I believe Mistoffelees told him,” Jenny said. “They have sort of a mentor-mentee relationship, you know.” 

Bombalurina’s head was pressed into Jennyanydots’ shoulder and as Demeter watched, her arms came up to hug the older woman back. There was such _relief_ and tenderness on Bombalurina’s face that Demeter nearly cried. 

She wouldn’t let Grizabella take their family from them. 

Slowly, Demeter said, “It was… hard for us. Grizabella gave us a job, and just when we had started to get attached to her, she left.” 

Bombalurina opened her eyes and sent Demeter a curious look. Technically, Demeter hadn’t said anything untrue, but it was a stretch to say that either of them had really been attached to Grizabella. At that time, they were still very much in the aftershock of Macavity. Grizabella’s job meant security, but they were too focused on keeping each other safe to spare much emotion for her. 

But Jenny and Jellylorum didn’t need to know that. 

Demeter continued hesitantly, “In some ways, she was like the mother we never had. Right, Bomba?” 

Her words had the desired effect, as the two older women cooed and squeezed the girls a little tighter. 

“Right...” Bombalurina said. “It was really tough.” 

“You poor dears,” Jennyanydots sniffed. “Why don’t you come sit with Jellylorum and I for a bit?” 

Bombalurina hung back as they made their way into the kitchen. She grabbed Demeter’s arm and whispered, “We have a mother.” 

“I know that,” Demeter whispered back. “I was just trying to say what they wanted to hear!” 

“Oh, we’re going to hell,” Bombalurina moaned, but she released Demeter, and they joined the other women at the table. 

“The gall of her, waltzing in here after all this time,” Jellylorum was saying. “She wants to come back and take the credit after all the hard work is done, but really, who raised those boys when she was gone?” 

“We did.” Jennyanydots shook her head. “And I love them, you know I do, but she should have been there in the thick of it with us.” 

“Can I ask a question?” Bombalurina interrupted. “Tugger and Munkustrap won’t say anything to us about it, but… what happened?” 

Jellylorum looked at Jenny. “You can tell them.” 

Jennyanydots nodded. “Well, Munkustrap’s mother was a lovely woman, but she died when he was about four or five.” 

“Four, I think,” Jellylorum put in. 

“And a couple years later, Old Deuteronomy began a relationship with Grizabella. She was a respected member of the community, and when she gave birth to Tugger, we were all excited. None of us were going to begrudge him happiness, especially after such a loss. But as it turns out, Grizabella wasn’t cut out to be much of a mother. She stuck around for a few years, but she finally left when Tugger was eight.” 

“Why did she leave?” Demeter asked softly. 

Jellylorum and Jennyanydots shrugged identically. “Who knows?” 

“I think she wanted to be on stage,” Jenny said. “She had been doing small shows -- it was always her passion -- but when she got a taste for bigger roles we weren’t enough for her.” 

“No,” Jellylorum protested, “Because my Gus was on the stage too, but he didn’t abandon my Asparagus. Family is everything. Grizabella was just… flighty. Always has been.” 

“If Grizabella left when Tugger was eight, then who is George’s mother?” Bombalurina asked. “I know they’re a few years apart.” 

“George is adopted,” Jennyanydots said in surprise. “Didn’t they tell you that?” 

Demeter and Bombalurina shook their heads. 

“Men,” Jenny said to Jellylorum, who chuckled. 

“Yes, they fostered George when he was, oh, I think nine years old?” Jellylorum said. “Of course, Munkustrap was already in college at that point, but you know how their family is. Open hearts and open arms.” 

Demeter smiled sadly. 

“And five years ago, Victoria and Mistoffelees joined them,” Jenny continued. “They were sleeping in the train station when Skimble found them. He persuaded them to come to Jellicle to finish high school, and seeing as Old Deuteronomy had two empty rooms in his house, he took them in.” 

“Five years ago?” Bombalurina was doing math in her head. “But Mistoffelees would have been eighteen then. He would have aged out of the system already.” 

“There’s no age limit on family, dear,” Jenny said kindly. 

Bomba leaned against Demeter’s shoulder. They took a minute to recover from Jenny’s words. 

Jellylorum put the teakettle on. Eventually the conversation turned to other topics, but Grizabella’s return to Jellicle cast a heavy shadow over the rest of the discussion.

Munkustrap lay awake, tossing and turning. The clock next to his bed showed that it was very early in the morning, and he would have loved to fall asleep for a few hours before he had to get up for work. Unfortunately, his brain had other plans for him.

He kept getting stuck picturing his morning routine -- sometimes creating inane daydreams helped him to fall asleep, especially if the topic was as simple and familiar as his mornings tended to be. But when he tried to imagine getting into his car to drive to work, his mind stuttered and instead began to conjure up countless disasters that could befall him. 

In Munkustrap’s opinion, feeling helpless was the worst emotion of them all. He reined his catastrophizing back in, trying to remind himself that it wasn’t logical to picture your car spontaneously combusting as you were climbing into it. 

Grizabella had asked about his job. Did she think that he was repressed for working in an office instead of living the hippie, go-where-the-wind-takes-me life as she did? _Was_ he repressed? 

Why was she here in Jellicle after all these years? 

He got out of bed and stared out of the window. The street below was empty and peaceful in the dark.

Munkustrap hadn’t always been miserable at his job. At first, he had liked it. He still liked it, sometimes. But it felt like those times were coming fewer and farther between. He wondered if this was what burn-out felt like. 

By the time Munkustrap was born, Old Deuteronomy had already inherited the store from his own father. Before his stint as the mayor of Jellicle, when he was still working at the store full time, Old Deuteronomy would let Munkustrap play on the floor of his office while he worked. 

Munkustrap still remembered the way the carpet smelled. He would lay on his stomach and run toy trucks over the rug, listening to his father chat with companies on the phone and whisper the words to his toys as though he, Munkustrap, were the one on the phone negotiating order details and shipments.

His father didn’t want him to be bound to the store, one of the reasons why he urged Munkustrap to find work at Growltiger’s Pizza during high school. They had talked about it again the night before Munkustrap left for college, after Gus had asked jokingly whether Munkustrap would take over the store in a few years and he hadn’t been sure how to answer. Old Deuteronomy had always urged Munkustrap to find his own path, and he thought that he had found it in insurance, for a while. 

He didn’t begrudge George his time working at the store. Admittedly, in the beginning there might have been some surprise and resentment that Old Deuteronomy had allowed his youngest son to pick up shifts in high school when his biological sons had been dissuaded from the same thing. But George was always so _lost_ and too quiet, even after he had been living with them for five years. In high school, he needed something to call his own. Working at the store forced him to talk to strangers, even if they were just asking where the paper towels were located, and eventually his confidence grew.

George had mentioned before that he was happy in his position at the store. Working, coaching the youth hockey team in Heaviside, and playing on a team of his own left him with enough to do that he didn’t feel the need to move up to a management position. Tugger had been trying to convince their dad to cut back on his hours and let someone else pick up the load, but that hadn’t been an option since Gladys had retired last year and Old Deuteronomy’s workload had increased. 

Munkustrap flopped back down onto his bed, but he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. 

Eventually, the sun dawned. Running on muscle memory and not much else, he made his way into _Roasted Memories_ for a cup of coffee, where Jemima commented on the bags underneath his eyes and Bombalurina gave him a receipt with the name MUNSKURAP. 

The workday reaffirmed the idea that Munkustrap still liked his job… sort of. At least, there were certain aspects of it that he enjoyed, and he had put enough years in that he didn’t want to quit. But going part-time might be a significant improvement. He could be okay with part-time, as long as he was making up the hours somewhere else. 

He hadn’t realized that he had made up his mind to talk to his dad about it until after work, when he found himself driving to Old Deuteronomy’s house instead of to the apartment on the other side of town. But it would be better to ask and see if they wanted to hire him than to keep harboring this secret hope in silence. 

When Munkustrap parked in front of the house, Victoria was heading out to a class with her hair in a tight bun and her ballet shoes slung over her shoulder. She waved at him. He waved back. 

Old Deuteronomy opened the door. 

“Munkustrap! What a pleasant surprise!” Old Deuteronomy scrutinized him. “Is everything okay?” 

“Hey, Dad.” His palms were sweating, he was nervous. Munkustrap took a deep breath. “Can we talk?”

As Demeter closed for the night, she played music from her phone -- a confusing mix of Ella Fitzgerald, indie rock, and The Andrews Sisters. Munkustrap had brought along some forms to fill out, which he looked over absentmindedly. The air in the coffee shop was peaceful as Demeter and Munkustrap worked on different things, half-focusing on the tasks in front of them and half-listening to the music. 

A new song started up, and Munkustrap frowned, trying to place the familiar piano chords. 

“Sorry,” Demeter said, reaching for her phone, “I can skip this one.” 

The woman on the recording began to sing, and Munkustrap finally remembered where he knew this song from. 

“No, you can play it. This is a good song.” At Demeter’s surprised look, he explained, “We used to listen to a lot of musicals when I was younger.” 

“That makes sense.” She turned the volume up a little bit and hummed along. 

When the male voice came in, Munkustrap started to sing the opening line. It was a little high for him, and his voice cracked, but it was worth it to see Demeter’s delight. 

Unexpectedly, she joined in. Munkustrap stretched out his hands to her and she copied the motion, swooning dramatically against the counter. Their voices were no match for the professional singers’ on the recording (and both Demeter and Munkustrap had forgotten a good portion of the words), but it would be a lie to say they weren’t both wholly committed by the time the last chorus started. 

When the song ended, they clapped for each other and took ridiculous bows. Both of them exclaimed with joy as the next song began, then turned to point at each other.

“You know this song?” 

“Yes!” Demeter nearly yelled. “ _You_ know this song?” 

“Yes, Victoria dragged us to the movie with her nearly ten times -- oh wait, we have to sing it!” 

“Oh my God, let’s do it! You’re up first.” 

Munkustrap held out his hand to her as he began to sing. Demeter took it and made her way out from behind the counter -- once she was clear of the hip-tall swinging door, Munkustrap twirled her and she laughed joyfully. 

From there, it was only natural to start dancing as well as singing. They must have looked and sounded ridiculous, but Munkustrap couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. Demeter was doing a move that looked like a one-person conga line on place -- but Munkustrap couldn’t make fun of her, because at one point he found himself trying to moonwalk, and Demeter laughed so hard she had to hold herself up with Munkustrap’s arm. He wasn’t embarrassed, though, because of the way the peals of her beautiful laughter settled on his skin and made him feel like a superhero. 

They struck a pose as the song ended, then immediately collapsed towards each other. 

“Oh, that was amazing!” Demeter said, her hands coming up to cradle either side of Munkustrap’s face. “I didn’t know you were such a good singer!” 

“Thank you, church choir for five years. You’ve got some pipes yourself!” 

Demeter blushed, then her gaze jumped behind him and she let out a small scream. 

Munkustrap whirled around, but Demeter was already ducking beneath his arms and going over to the door. “Jesus, Grizabella! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

Grizabella came inside. “I’m sorry. I forgot my purse, but I didn’t want to interrupt.” 

“Um, I was just closing up,” Demeter began, but Grizabella held up her hand. 

“It’s fine. You know, you remind me of myself when I was younger.”

Munkustrap bristled. “She’s nothing like you.” 

“Actually, Munkustrap, I was referring to you.” Grizabella shook her head. “Never mind.” 

“Why don’t you and I go look for your purse?” Demeter suggested quickly. “Could it be in the back?” 

“Hang on.” Munkustrap was watching Grizabella. “Tell me, I want to know what you mean.” 

Grizabella tilted her head at him. There was a challenge in her eyes. “Well, both you and I tend to keep our guard up unless we’re around someone we absolutely trust. We’re prideful.” 

Munkustrap shook his head. “Wow. Thank you for illuminating my faults that have nothing to do with… oh, I don’t know… your impact on my life?” 

Demeter emerged from the backroom. “I have your purse.” 

“Thank you,” Grizabella said. She looked away from Munkustrap to the younger woman. 

Demeter came to stand by Munkustrap’s side. She stretched out her arm -- and he watched, waiting to see what she would do -- but she made Grizabella step forward to reach the bag. It was clear to everyone in the room that Demeter was marking where her loyalties lay. 

“Thank you,” Grizabella said again. She sounded disappointed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Demeter.” 

Munkustrap sighed with relief once the door shut behind his stepmother, but Demeter watched the older woman’s car until it turned a corner and disappeared. 

“I have a question for you,” she said. 

“What’s up?” 

Demeter hesitated. “Do you know if Grizabella has talked to your dad at all?” 

“God, I hope not.” 

“Would it be such a bad thing?” 

Munkustrap looked at her in surprise. “He has enough on his plate already with the store. But they’re both adults, so I guess I couldn’t really stop it if he wanted to see her.” 

“Okay,” Demeter said. “And what about Mistoffelees or George?” 

Immediately, he frowned. “No.” 

“Munk--”

“Want me to drive you home?” 

“Hey,” Demeter protested, “You can’t _herd_ me out of answering my questions.” 

“Yes I can.” 

She gave him a look. “Dude.” 

Munkustrap dropped his arms. “Sorry.” 

“Look, I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me. But Bombalurina and I had to learn about your family’s history with Grizabella from Jennyanydots! How are we supposed to help if we don't know what's going on?” 

“If Jenny truly told you everything, then you would know that there’s nothing you can help with. The only thing we can do is avoid Grizabella and keep her away from the kids.” 

“She clearly wants to mend her relationship with you! Why won’t you take pity on her?” 

Munkustrap gaped at her. “I can’t believe you’re defending her!” 

“I’m not defending her! What she did was awful, but she’s an old woman.” 

“It’s my family, Demeter!” Munkustrap yelled. 

Demeter’s face hardened. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him. “I’m going to lock up.” 

“Okay,” Munkustrap said, baffled at the sudden drop in the volume of her voice. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“No,” Demeter said, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You don’t need to give me a ride home tonight.” 

“But you hate walking in the dark.” 

“Well, as much as I don’t like it, right now I do not want to get in a car with you.” She was speaking very quietly, and this time Munkustrap could hear her struggle to keep her voice level. 

Feeling like an asshole, Munkustrap sighed. “Fine. Goodnight.” 

She shrugged. 

Demeter burst into Bombalurina’s room. “Tell me that Munkustrap is not Macavity.” 

Her sister was folding clothes, and didn’t even look up. “Munkustrap’s not Macavity.” 

“Logically, I know that.” Demeter began to pace. “But what if we’ve been overlooking the signs this whole time and the similarities are just now coming out?” 

Bombalurina turned around to look at Demeter suspiciously. “Are you out of breath?” 

“Yeah, I was walking home and there was a mailbox that kind of looked like a person. It’s a long story.” 

“Okay, back up. What’s going on with Munkustrap? Why didn’t he drive you home?” 

Demeter scowled. “Grizabella came and we fought. We were both shouting, but suddenly I felt it again! Like I do with Macavity!” 

Bombalurina copied Demeter’s frantic gesture: one hand tapping quickly at her heart. “I don’t know what this means, Deme.” 

“Whenever I’m around Macavity my heart jumps. I hate it.” 

“Oh,” Bombalurina said, understanding. “So you felt that tonight when you were arguing with Munkustrap?” 

Demeter nodded. 

Bombalurina moved her laundry pile off of her bed and onto the floor. “Come sit with me.” 

When her sister was leaning up beside her, Bombalurina tried to sound calm and authoritative. “Let’s look at the facts. Munkustrap has a steady job. Macavity was unemployed for years until he built his criminal empire.”

“Empire is a strong word,” Demeter said. “It was, like, four guys in a garage running scams on tourists.” 

Bombalurina chose to ignore Demeter’s sarcasm and continued. “Munkustrap is a pillar of the community and beloved by everyone he meets. Macavity is a greasy little creep who had to bully people into being friends with him.” 

Reluctantly, Demeter said, “Yeah, that’s true.” 

“I don’t know exactly why you got scared, Demeter,” Bombalurina said softly. “But is it really that surprising? You were fighting with a guy who’s a lot bigger than you, he was raising his voice… honestly, I’m impressed that you didn’t black out and hit Munkustrap with the coffee grinder.” 

The joke fell flat. They sat in silence for a minute, until Demeter sighed. 

“Thank you. That does help, a little bit,” she said quietly. “What would I do without you?” 

Bombalurina smiled. “You would be very sad and not nearly as cool. But lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Demeter smiled and said, “Aw,” just as Bombalurina made a disgusted noise at her own sappiness. 

“Ugh. This is why I never talk about my feelings, I get all mushy. Do you still need me or can I keep doing my laundry?” 

“You’re freed from mushiness. Want me to hang out here with you?” 

Bomba got the impression that Demeter wasn’t asking for Bombalurina’s sake as much as for her own. “Sure. That’d be nice.” 

When Demeter got to the coffee shop the next morning, she was surprised to see Munkustrap leaning against the hood of his car. 

He stood up when he saw her. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

“Can we talk?” 

Demeter checked the time on her phone. “I have to open the shop in five minutes.” 

He smiled. “I’ll talk quickly.” 

She stepped off of the curb to join him in the street. 

Munkustrap said, “So, it has been brought to my attention that I can be a bit pigheaded sometimes.” 

Demeter raised her eyebrows. 

“Okay, a lot of the time,” Munkustrap amended. “I’m sorry.” 

Demeter still wanted to be mad at him, but found that her annoyance was melting like snow. She admitted, “It has also been brought to _my_ attention that I can be… overly sensitive. And paranoid.” 

Munkustrap’s face turned serious. “I had something else I wanted to say about that. Um, if I made you feel unsafe last night, or ever, it wasn’t my intention. I wasn’t thinking and I just -- I wanted to apologize.” 

“Thank you for saying that. Really.” 

He nodded. 

Demeter smiled up at Munkustrap, hoping that the fight was behind them. “Did we just communicate in a healthy way?” 

“You know what? I think we did.” Munkustrap brought his hand up to rest on top of hers where she had been subconsciously pressing it on her chest. “How’s your heart?” 

The pads of his fingers brushed against her sternum, sending heat throughout Demeter’s entire body. She said, “Steady.” 

Something like hope flashed across Munkustrap’s face. He watched her for a second. Demeter scarcely dared to breathe. 

Someone wolf-whistled, and they jolted apart. Stepping back from Munkustrap, Demeter found Pouncival and Tumblebrutus grinning at them from the sidewalk. 

Very dryly, Munkustrap asked, “Can we help you?” 

“Don’t mind us,” Pouncival said, eyes teeming with mischief. “We’re just here for the show.” 

Munkustrap leapt onto the pavement and, quick as a whip, got Pouncival in a headlock. He rubbed his knuckles on the younger boy’s head. 

“Get off me!” Pouncival yelled, but he sounded delighted. “Give noogies to Tumblebrutus, too!” 

Obligingly, Munkustrap released him, and Pouncival ran in the opposite direction. 

“Mercy, mercy!” Tumblebrutus darted back, laughing. “Pouncival whistled, not me!” 

“You’re a filthy liar!” Pouncival yelled from down the street. “Don’t believe him, Munkustrap!” 

Demeter neatly sidestepped the shenanigans and unlocked the coffee shop door. 

“Is Jemima with you this morning?” Tumblebrutus ventured out from where he had been cowering behind Munkustrap’s car. “Pounce and I are going to play a prank on Skimbleshanks but we need to know if he has any allergies.” 

“I’m begging you not to tell me any more,” Demeter said. “Her shift starts at twelve.” 

“You’re the best. Pouncival, I’m going to see whether Coricopat and Tantomile have the feathers we need!” 

Demeter marveled at whatever the boys were cooking up -- what kind of prank that involved food allergies and feathers? She didn’t plan on asking to find out. 

Munkustrap jogged up to her. “Hey, I wanted to let you know that I won’t be around much for the next couple of days.” 

“What’s going on?” 

He beamed. “I’m starting work at the store.” 

The force of his smile made Demeter gasp, and it took her a few sentences to remember how to form words. She had never seen Munkustrap look so happy when talking about work before. “That’s amazing!” 

“Yeah. Just part-time for now… and I’ll mostly be doing paperwork, but still. I think it’ll be good.” 

“Of course it will!” Demeter smiled back at him. “I’m so happy for you.” 

Pouncival had been sneaking up behind them, and now he threw himself onto Munkustrap’s back with a shout of, “Ha ha! Revenge!” 

Munkustrap groaned and fell to the ground. “No, he’s got me! Demeter! Tell my family I love them!” 

For some reason, that made Demeter blush, and she hurried inside, calling back “I will!” to the men wrestling behind her. 

As she prepared for the work day ahead, Demeter kept an eye on the shenanigans happening outside. Tumblebrutus came out of the twins’ shop holding a mysteriously-shaped box, and decided to join in the fray by tickling any exposed limbs he could see with a long white feather. 

God, she cared about Munkustrap so, so much. Even the sight of him horsing around with the kids wasn’t turning her off of him -- on the contrary, she thought that his laugh was really sexy, and resolved to try to make him laugh like that more often. 

It was weird. He wasn’t the type of guy she ever would have liked in high school. But then again, Demeter thought as she watched Munkustrap stop and bend over to inspect a scrape Pouncival had just given himself on the pavement, maybe that was a good thing. 

“Did Victoria tell you what we’re watching today? She’s being very cagey about it, and it’s making me suspicious.” Bombalurina slammed the passenger-side door and pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. 

Tugger shrugged. “She told me last time that it was my turn to pick the movie, but all of a sudden the plans changed. Makes me think Mistoffelees had something to do with it.” 

“You blame everything on him. Maybe Victoria realized that she doesn’t want to watch _Grease_ for the eighteenth time.”

“Hey.” Tugger pointed at her. “That movie is a masterpiece and you know it. You’re totally a Rizzo.” 

Bombalurina smiled. “Demeter and I _might_ have choreographed a dance routine to “We Go Together” when we were twelve. It’s probably floating around on an old VHS somewhere, but I promise you that you are never going to see it.” 

They made their way into Old Deuteronomy’s house, Tugger shooting off a quick text to Mistoffelees that they were downstairs. 

Old Deuteronomy met them in the hallway. “Oh, Tugger! I didn’t know you were coming to movie night. Victoria only mentioned Bombalurina.” 

Tugger gave his father a hug. “Well, I decided at the last minute to grace them with my presence.” 

“How nice.” Old Deuteronomy glanced nervously back at the kitchen. “I think they’re upstairs waiting for you.” 

“Thanks, Dad.” Tugger leaped up the first couple of stairs, then looked back. “Bomba, you coming?” 

Bombalurina was squinting at Old Deuteronomy. “In a second. I’m gonna use the bathroom first.” 

Once Tugger was out of earshot, Bombalurina said, “You’re not a very good liar.” 

Old Deuteronomy sighed. “Bombalurina--”

“Look, I don’t care that Grizabella is in your kitchen. It’s your house, you can do whatever you want to. But she should leave before Tugger comes back down. The only thing she does is cause him pain.” 

“She wanted to come and make amends.” Old Deuteronomy closed his eyes. “I think that I made a mistake. I’ve let my sons feel bitter and blame her for far too long without having a discussion about it.” 

Now Bombalurina felt bad. For the first time since she had known him, Old Deuteronomy looked like he was feeling the weight of all his years. She said softly, “At a certain point, there’s nothing you can do. They’re grown men. They’ll get it on their own.” 

The old man nodded. 

Bombalurina didn’t know what else to do. She wanted to thank Old Deuteronomy for all his hospitality, for accepting them into the town and into his family. She wanted to say that she and Demeter would do what they could to help him sway the minds of the town, but that would be a lie. When it came down to it, they were firmly on the side of Jennyanydots and Munkustrap and they wouldn’t risk losing the connections they had formed. 

So instead, she said, “I’ll go upstairs and distract them for five minutes. After that time, Grizabella should be gone. If someone else saw her, it would just cause more problems.”

“I understand,” Old Deuteronomy said. “Thank you. Would you like to come and say hello?” 

Bombalurina laughed. 

Old Deuteronomy shook his head, smiling. “I didn’t think so.” 

She saluted him and made her way upstairs. “So, what movie are we watching?” 

Mistoffelees waved at her. “I found one from the seventies about a stage magician who commits murder. I want to mock all of their tricks.” 

“Sounds terrible. I love it,” Bombalurina decided. “Hey, should we take a selfie first? No reason, just for fun.” 

“Just for fun?” Tugger echoed skeptically, but Victoria already had her phone out. 

The movie was awful. Tugger fell asleep halfway through, leaving Bombalurina and Mistoffelees to shush each other whenever the other person was laughing too loudly. 

Victoria’s phone lit up with a text, and she smiled. Bombalurina peeked over to see who she was texting. Victoria had sent Plato the picture of the four of them, and he had responded with a picture of himself dramatically falling to the ground and the message: <3 <3 <3 _you’re so pretty i just walked into a stop sign_

Despite herself, Bombalurina smiled. 

Mistoffelees leaned over to see what she was looking at. “Disgusting, aren’t they?” 

“I was going to say ‘cute,’ maybe.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” He smirked. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Victoria looked up from her phone. 

“Uh, nothing,” Bombalurina said. 

Victoria shrugged cheerfully, signed “Okay,” then checked that Tugger was still sleeping and asked, “So, Bomba, what’s going on with the two of you?” 

“Me and Mistoffelees?” Bombalurina asked, surprised. 

Mistoffelees made a retching sound, complete with exaggerated hand motion. 

Bomba elbowed him. 

“Ow!” He rubbed his side. “You’re just not my type!” 

“Excuse you, I’m everyone’s type.” 

Misto looked as though he was about to strongly disagree, but Victoria interrupted them. “No, you and Tugger.” 

“Oh.” She blinked. “Well, we’re not dating, and we’re not hooking up. So, I’m not really sure where that leaves us right now.” 

“That’s called friends, I think,” Mistoffelees said sardonically. 

“You are such a bastard sometimes, you know that?” Ignoring his retort, she turned back to Victoria. “Yes, we’re friends. And I’m happy with it. I’ve never had a lot of close friends before, so this is new. New and exciting.” 

Victoria looked touched. “We love you too! Say it, Misto.” 

“Oh, I don’t --” He protested, but his sister frowned sternly at him. “Fine. We love you.” 

“Aw.” Bombalurina linked her arms through theirs and pulled the blanket closer to the three of them. “Come here, you saps. Come snuggle with me.” 

Victoria smiled and rested her head on Bomba’s shoulder. There was a lot of grumbling from Mistoffelees as the girls pulled him closer, but he didn’t move from where he was nestled against Bombalurina’s other side until the movie was done. 

Grizabella walked into the store just as Jemima’s shift was ending, and began to read through the waste logs. 

Demeter said, “I’m closing tonight, and Munkustrap’s going to drive me home afterwards.”

The unspoken _“So I want you gone before he shows up”_ hung in the air between them. 

“I have work to do,” Grizabella pushed back. 

Demeter thought about it. If Grizabella decided to help them with the books and order forms, it was less work for Demeter and Bombalurina. She relented. “Well… as long as you stay in the back room to work, it should be fine. And don’t antagonize him.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Grizabella murmured. She smiled down at the log she was reading. 

Jemima came out of the back, stopping to re-tie her shoe. 

Demeter smiled at her. “Off to the movie?” 

“Yep! Skimbleshanks and I are each going to buy a large popcorn and see who can eat theirs the fastest.” 

Grizabella looked up. “Hey, why aren’t people buying the donuts?” 

Demeter sighed. She had a lot of strong opinions about the donuts, but Grizabella always argued for them just as stubbornly. “I don’t know. Maybe people know that we can’t compete with Eliot’s.” 

The coffee shop on the other side of town was known for their donuts, and boasted about them on all of their signs. 

“Maybe. It seems odd that hardly anyone is buying them, though. The number seems almost suspiciously low.” 

Jemima said, “I’ll take a donut.” 

The two women turned to stare at her. 

“But you’re going to the movies,” Demeter protested. 

Jemima shrugged. “Maybe I’m hungry now.” 

“Uh…” Demeter tried to think of other arguments to prevent Jemima from taking sides. This whole thing felt a lot bigger than one donut. 

Jemima met Demeter’s eyes calmly and waited. 

“Fine,” Demeter said, giving up. Jemima was an adult, she could make her own decisions. “That’s a dollar-fifty.” 

The younger girl paid happily and stuck the donut into her backpack. She turned to smile tentatively at Grizabella just as Skimbleshanks walked in. Grizabella smiled back, hope in her eyes. 

Skimbleshanks frowned at the sight of Grizabella, and her smile vanished. 

“Ready to go, Jemima?” 

Jemima nodded, and waved goodbye to Demeter and Grizabella. Her father hurried her out of the door. 

Grizabella looked back down at the notebook in front of her and began to prepare the order forms for next week. Her pen made frustrated stabs at the paper. 

When Munkustrap came a few hours later, Demeter warned him quietly that Grizabella was in the back room working through the books. He rolled his eyes but accepted it.

“Tell me about the store,” Demeter begged. “Do you like working there?” 

“Yeah,” Munkustrap smiled. “I really, really do.” 

At her request, he told her the details as she closed up and cleaned the countertops. His first few days of work hadn’t been that exciting, but he told her what happened anyway, how he had a real office (it was a broom closet they had converted into an office, but he didn’t mind the size), what his duties were, a funny story that happened when Pouncival was working the other day. 

The conversation flowed easily between them. Munkustrap found himself watching the quiet smile playing around the corners of Demeter’s mouth, and almost didn’t realize that he was smiling as well. 

Demeter went to take the trash outside. She was gone for a few minutes, longer than normal. Munkustrap figured that maybe she had met Coricopat and Tantomile by the dumpster, but looked up when he heard a crash like glass breaking from behind the shop. 

He was suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding, and headed cautiously for the back. 

Munkustrap walked outside just in time to see Demeter knee Macavity in the groin. The man who had been previously holding her by the wrists doubled over, groaning. Demeter spun around and raced towards the coffee shop door, but she didn’t get far before she yelped in pain and was pulled backwards again. 

Macavity looked up and saw Munkustrap. His fingers dug into Demeter’s arm a little deeper. “Who is this?” 

“He’s no one. Just a customer,” Demeter said too quickly. She met Munkustrap’s eyes, pleading. “Go back inside.” 

He looked between her and Macavity. She clearly wanted him to go inside and call the cops, but Munkustrap quailed at the thought of leaving her alone with Macavity. He decided to play along with the character of the oblivious customer until he could decide what to do. “Is everything alright out here?” 

Macavity answered, “Yes, we’re fine. It’s a personal matter.” 

“I’m waiting on my coffee.” Munkustrap looked at Demeter. “Do you think I could get that soon?” 

Her eyes widened in understanding. “Yes, of course. I’ll go make that now.” 

“Great, I’ll come with you. To wait for my coffee.” 

Macavity said, “Stop.” 

They froze. 

“You look familiar,” Macavity said to Munkustrap. “Do I know you?” 

They hadn’t fooled him at all. Munkustrap took a small step closer and said, “I just have one of those faces, I guess.” 

“No, I remember you. You were at the cafe last time I paid Demeter here a visit.” 

Another step. His heart was pounding. “Yeah, well, I’m an addict. Can’t go more than four hours without caffeine.” 

“Isn’t the cafe closed right now?” 

Fuck, he was smart. That was bad news for them. 

Macavity glowered down at Demeter. “What the hell are you trying to pull?” 

“Nothing! Will you _let me go_?” She elbowed him, hard, in the stomach. 

This time he was ready, though, and didn’t release her. Macavity raised his hand, but before he could strike her, Munkustrap shoved him forcefully away from Demeter. Macavity’s palm met his ear and stung. 

“You want to take her slaps?” Macavity growled. “Fine.” 

He swung at Munkustrap again, this time with his hand clenched into a fist. Munkustrap grabbed Macavity’s forearm and wrenched it down before the punch could hit, and they grappled sloppily together for a minute, feet skidding on the asphalt. 

Macavity got his arms free and his fist connected with Munkustrap’s nose. Munkustrap stumbled back -- for a second, it didn’t hurt, leaving him to panic as to why his vision had just disappeared, but then the pain rushed back with a vengeance. The cool pavement rose up to meet him. 

When the fuzziness had gone from his eyesight enough that he could think again, Munkustrap heard Macavity say, “Who are you calling?” 

He looked up to see the other man dragging Demeter out of the back of the coffee shop. She grabbed onto the doorframe, futily, then cried out as Macavity gave another violent twist to her arm. She stumbled towards him. 

“Ow!” Macavity yelled, sounding both astonished and furious. “What the hell? Did you just bite me?!” 

In response, Demeter spat in Macavity’s face. 

Macavity let out an incredulous laugh and threw Demeter to the ground. She flinched away from him, her arms coming up to protect her head in anticipation of his attack. 

Munkustrap heaved himself up and growled, “Oh, no you don’t.” 

He grasped Macavity’s shoulder and spun the other man around, away from Demeter. This time, when Munkustrap threw a punch, he hit Macavity’s eye. The pain made both of them swear. 

“You’re a real nuisance. Why can’t you just stay down?” Macavity took hold of Munkustrap’s head, and banged it into the side of the dumpster. 

_Get up,_ Munkustrap urged himself, but he couldn’t. His limbs weren’t responding to the impulse. 

The sound of police sirens was rapidly approaching. Munkustrap allowed himself a breath of relief before he blacked out. 

The sight of Macavity being loaded into a police car, hands cuffed behind his back, brought Demeter more consolation than she could have imagined. She hadn’t realized how much she had been waiting for something to happen for the past two years. In a way, the fact that the confrontation had occurred and she had come out of it relatively unscathed allowed her to breathe a little easier. 

Now that the Jellicle police had to put Macavity through their system, she was willing to bet that they would find any number of interesting things about his shady deals. She might even help them. Macavity had bragged to her many times that he had broken every written law, which aside from being statistically impossible, was an incriminating thing to boast about. 

Demeter was done looking over her shoulder and jumping at her own shadow. If Macavity thought that was all she was good for, she was going to prove him wrong. 

At least it had been her he had targeted, and not Bombalurina. The thought of her baby sister going through Macavity again made her blood chill. 

The policewoman was checking on Munkustrap, who was no longer scarily motionless on the ground, but was awake and answering her questions. Demeter wanted to scream at the cop to get away from him, but reminded herself strongly that the police officer wasn’t going to hurt him. Knowing and feeling, however, were two different things. 

The other officer handed Demeter a bottle of water and crouched by her, pulling out his notepad. She flinched away from him. 

“It’s alright,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe with me. I just want to ask you a few things.” 

Demeter stared down at her knees so she didn’t have to see his uniform. She hated how nervous cops always made her feel, for no reason other than the power and weapons they wielded. 

He sighed. “Alright. What can I do to make you more comfortable?” 

She finally met his eyes, and cringed at how wobbly her voice sounded. “Do you know Alonzo?” 

When Alonzo arrived with his partner in tow, he brought a calming presence with him and immediately began bossing people around. Demeter was immensely glad to see him, if only to have someone else on their side. Munkustrap exchanged friendly words with Alonzo’s partner Bill Bailey as well, murmuring to Demeter that the Baileys had lived in Jellicle for decades. 

Alonzo frowned at Munkustrap. “Jacey told me that she checked you for a concussion already, but I want to get someone professional in to check again, and also to take a look at that nose. I assume you don’t want to go your separate ways right now?” 

That last was addressed to Demeter, who inched a little closer to Munkustrap and shook her head. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Okay boys and girls, let’s take a field trip to the police station.” 

Bill Bailey said, “Isn’t it good to see that Alonzo isn’t letting his profession get in the way of his love for sarcasm? Work-life balance is so important.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Munkustrap said, with a hint of a smile on his face. 

At the station, a doctor came to look over Munkustrap and announced that his nose wasn’t broken, just badly bruised, much to everyone’s relief. Alonzo sat down with Demeter and talked her through what the first steps would be to file a restraining order against Macavity. 

When their conversation was finished and the doctor had left, Demeter leaned against Munkustrap’s side. They watched Alonzo and Bill Bailey speak quietly in another corner of the room. 

Munkustrap put his arm around her. “Are you doing okay?” 

“As well as can be expected, I think.” She glanced up at him. “Thanks for defending me back there. You’re kind of like my knight in shining armor.” 

“I think you did more damage than I did. If anything, you’re my knight.” 

She smiled wanly. “We’ll be each other’s knights.” 

“That sounds good.” He pressed, “Really, though. If you hadn’t managed to call the police, I don’t know what would have happened.” 

The thought was chilling. 

Demeter frowned. “That wasn’t me.” 

“What?” 

She repeated, “I didn’t even finish dialing the number. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure how they knew to intervene.” 

Munkustrap tried to process that thought, but his brain was still sluggish with pain. “Must have been one of the neighbors.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Demeter said. She sounded as worn-out as Munkustrap felt. 

They sat leaning against each other quietly until the policemen joined them again. 

“Hey,” Alonzo said. “You guys are free to go if you don’t have anything else to tell us tonight. We found a car for you.” 

“Thank you,” Demeter said. “That was thoughtful.” 

“I can take her home,” Munkustrap offered. 

Alonzo pointed at him warningly. “You’re not taking anyone home. I’m still not convinced that you don’t have a concussion. Instead, I called you a chauffeur.” 

Their chauffeur was waiting outside of the station leaning on his car. He grinned wickedly when he saw them. “Oh, how the tables have turned. Usually I’m the man on the inside and you’re the one bailing me out of jail.” 

“I was never in jail,” Munkustrap said exasperatedly, but he gave Tugger a hug. 

“You called Tugger?” Bill Bailey joked to Alonzo. “Haven’t these two been through enough tonight?” 

Munkustrap frowned at him sternly enough that Bailey dropped his smile and looked away. 

Tugger held the passenger door open for Demeter. “Madam.” 

She slid into the seat, vaguely aware of Munkustrap stretching out in the back. Alonzo watched them drive off before heading back into the station with Bill Bailey, who waved them goodbye. 

Tugger kept up a steady stream of chatter as they drove to Jennyanydots’ neighborhood. His fingers drummed an antsy pattern on the steering wheel. 

“I called Bomba and told her,” he said abruptly. “On the phone, Alonzo said he thought you might want to tell her yourself and he didn’t want to overstep by letting her know. But I thought… well, I don’t know. I thought you might be too tired to explain it all again, and I didn’t like the idea of blindsiding her with this.” 

“That’s okay,” Demeter said. “I appreciate it.” 

He nodded, jerkily, then caught his brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “So, looks like you finally lost your fight virginity. They say you always remember your first time punching someone.” 

“I punched Alonzo in the fifth grade,” Munkustrap said mildly. 

“Oh, yeah! How could I have forgotten about that?” Tugger winked at Demeter. “It was glorious.” 

“You were three and not present.” 

“I _heard_ that it was glorious.” 

Munkustrap rolled his eyes, but he was smirking. 

Tugger turned his attention to Demeter. “So, I’m working on some new impressions for my radio show. Want to hear them?” 

“Uh, not really.” 

“Great! So the first one is Borat. You know, like, ‘My wife!’” He grinned. “Pretty good, right?” 

Demeter said, “Oh my God.” 

“Say, doll, whaddya think of my impressions? That one’s a mobster. I’m also working on an Elvis voice.” He cleared his throat. “Hey little mama, gimme some feedback.” 

A laugh burst out of Demeter as she remembered the live show she had gone to, and how she had made the same Rum Tum Tugger-Elvis comparison in her head. 

Tugger smiled widely and whispered, “Victory!” 

Demeter realized suddenly that he had been systematically trying to make them smile since the drive had started, and that his absurdity had actually succeeded in making her laugh. She was oddly touched. 

They turned onto Jenny’s street and pulled up in front of the house. Demeter twisted around in her seat to look at Munkustrap. “You’re coming in, right?” 

He said, “If you want me to.” 

“I do.” She got out of the car, then went around to the back and helped him stand. The doctor had said that he was all clear but like Alonzo, Demeter wanted to make sure for herself that Munkustrap wouldn’t suddenly fall over or black out again. 

Demeter paused by Tugger’s window and gestured for him to roll it down, which he did. She said, “Thanks for the ride.” 

“Anytime.” He glanced at Munkustrap. “You’re gonna take care of him, right?” 

She smiled. “I promise. And Tugger, I think you’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for.” 

“Thanks!” He said, then frowned. “I think? That’s kind of a backhanded compliment… but I’ll take it.” 

“Drive safe,” Munkustrap said. 

“I always do, big brother.” Tugger saluted. “Be safe, you two. Use protection!” 

They groaned simultaneously. Munkustrap flipped his brother off and Tugger cackled. 

Demeter linked her elbow through Munkustrap’s, and they began the laborious climb up Jenny’s front steps.

They had barely made it through the door when Bombalurina hurtled down the stairs. She threw her arms around Demeter, and Munkustrap thought he heard her sob. 

The sisters held each other tightly for a long time, whispering quietly. When they separated, Bombalurina was sniffling. 

She turned to Munkustrap and hugged him. “Thank you.” 

He didn’t know what to say, so he just hugged her back. 

Demeter took his hand, and they made their way upstairs. Bombalurina seemed loath to let Demeter out of her sight, but when they got to the landing, she kissed her sister’s temple. “Wake me if you need anything.” 

Demeter nodded. 

Munkustrap followed Demeter into her room and closed the door behind them. “Are you doing okay?” 

She seemed oddly calm for the traumatic event she had just gone through, making him wonder how much shock was still working its way through her system. 

Demeter nodded. She was watching him. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” 

“Um.” He wanted to. “Is that the best idea?” 

“I don’t think you should be driving right now.” She sat down on the bed. 

That was true, and his car was back at the coffee shop anyway. Munkustrap took a step back, in defiance of the urge pounding through his blood to get closer to her. 

“Munku,” Demeter said softly. “Stay.” 

His knees went weak. At that moment, he would have fought Macavity a thousand times over if she had asked it of him. 

Munkustrap walked over to stand in front of Demeter and bent down to press their foreheads together. They stayed there for a minute, just breathing. 

Finally, he drew back and dropped a kiss onto her hairline. “Toothbrush?” 

“There’s a spare under the sink,” Demeter said. She reached up to press her palm to his cheek, very gently. He closed his eyes. 

When Munkustrap got back to the room, Demeter was already under the bedcovers. She gestured to the desk. 

“I got some sweatpants for you. They were originally Bombalurina’s before I stole them, so they should almost fit.” 

“Thanks,” he said, suddenly realizing how exhausted he was. 

Demeter watched him unabashedly as he changed. He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she chuckled. 

She held up the corner of the blanket and he slipped under it. They stared at each other. 

Demeter said, “Are you falling off the side of the bed?” 

“No,” Munkustrap lied. 

She wasn’t fooled, and tugged at his arm. “You can move over. I won’t bite.” 

Munkustrap swallowed. “Your bed is very small.” 

“Yeah,” Demeter said. She sounded a little breathy. “I know.” 

The moonlight coming in through the window provided some light to see by, enough for Munkustrap to know that Demeter was watching him. All of a sudden he found himself panicking. He hadn’t thought that she would want to... do anything tonight with Macavity still so fresh in both of their minds, but had he misread the situation? Were there expectations here that he was unaware of? Should he kiss her? _Could_ he kiss her without breaking his nose? 

“I can hear your brain grinding,” Demeter said, cutting off his train of thought. “What are you overthinking about?” 

Munkustrap gaped at her, surprised but pleased that she knew his tics so well. The fact that she had noticed it, the fact that she had paid enough attention in the past to learn this, strengthened his resolve to just ask her. Still, there was no easy way to bring it up. 

He said, “Can we just sleep?” 

“Of course.” Demeter smiled gently. “That’d be nice.” 

Munkustrap shifted a little closer to her, trying to get comfortable without slipping off of the mattress. Demeter reached out and rested her hand on his chest. She moved it in slow circles. 

“I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.” 

“I’m not,” Munkustrap said. 

She rolled her eyes. 

“I mean it. I would do it again in an instant. Although maybe…” he yawned, “... maybe I would take some karate classes first.” 

Demeter blushed. “You’re sweet.”

The movement of her hand was incredibly soothing. His limbs were peacefully heavy and before he knew it, his eyes slipped closed. 

He must have fallen asleep, because when Munkustrap opened his eyes again, Demeter wasn’t lying beside him. Still half-dreaming, he reached out for her mindlessly and his hand grazed her back. 

She was sitting up in the middle of the bed, knees pulled up to her chest. Now that he was cognizant again, he could hear that she was struggling to catch her breath. 

“Hey.” His voice was scratchy. “Demeter.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I don’t mind. It’s what I’m here for.” He tried to think back to how she had asked him to help her when she first told him the truth about Macavity. “Can I give you a hug?” 

Demeter nodded. “Yeah. Please?” 

Munkustrap wrapped his arms around her tightly. Demeter tucked her face into his shoulder. 

He let her cry uninterrupted for a few more minutes, then began to rub her back. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” 

“I _know_ ,” Demeter said, sounding frustrated. “I just… I can’t remember whether I locked the front door.” 

Chills made their way down Munkustrap’s spine. 

Demeter must have noticed him shiver, because she let out a teary laugh. “I know, right? Sounds like the beginning of a low-budget horror movie. I know we came inside and Bombalurina came downstairs, but I can’t remember whether I locked it in between those two events.” 

“Do you usually lock it behind you?” Munkustrap asked. 

“Yeah, usually. So I might have done it automatically, or I might have been distracted. I’m sorry, it’s stupid.” 

“It’s definitely not stupid. It’s your safety, it makes sense why you would want to check. Even if it is unlocked, though, Macavity’s in a holding cell tonight. You’re safe. Right?” 

“Right,” Demeter repeated. “Right.” 

Munkustrap said, “Do you want me to go down and check?” 

But Demeter shook her head. “No. No, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be alone.” 

He sighed, then hastened to say, “I’m not mad, I’m just trying to think.” 

She took a few more deep breaths, still trying not to hyperventilate, and he copied her. They breathed together, Demeter resting against his chest, until he felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. 

“Can we wake up Bombalurina?” Demeter suggested. She sounded a little calmer, but not by much. “If she and I go downstairs, then can you stay in here?” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

Still, they didn’t move. He waited for Demeter to say something else but she was silent, lost in thought. 

At last, she seemed to work up enough courage and patted him lightly on the torso, signaling that she wanted to get by. Munkustrap swung his legs off the side of the bed so that she could clamber over him and go knock on her sister’s door. 

After a few minutes, Demeter came back to the room. She held herself a little easier and wasn’t frowning anymore. 

“All good?” 

“Yeah. I think Jenny must have locked it before she went to bed.” 

She joined him on the bed to take her earlier spot by the wall. They lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling. He rested his hand on top of hers. 

Demeter sighed. “I just got really fucking tired all of a sudden.” 

“Panic attacks will do that to you,” Munkustrap said dryly. “Best sleep aid there is.” 

She smiled at his joke. “Do you like to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” 

“I don’t know,” Munkustrap admitted. 

“I guess we’ll find out.” Demeter rolled onto her side. When he didn’t move, she craned her neck and looked back at him. “Where are you? Come here.” 

He put his arm around her as she requested, moving forward so that his chest was brushing her back. 

“See?” Demeter said, scooting back so they were pressed a little closer together, “You’re a natural. I think I’m going to try to sleep now.” 

“You should,” Munkustrap said. “I’ll watch over you. I got you.” 

She exhaled deeply. 

“I got you,” he repeated. “I got you.” 

When Munkustrap woke up again, the sun was shining on his face. For a second, he looked around in confusion, but then he came to two realizations: first, that he was in Demeter’s room and second, that someone had cut off his arm while he slept. 

After blinking awake more fully, he found that no, his arm was still attached to his body, but he hadn’t been able to feel it because it had gone completely numb. 

“Demeter,” Munkustrap whispered. “Honey, I need my arm.” 

She mumbled something and moved over enough for him to extract himself from beneath her. 

Yawning, he took stock of his surroundings, and found his shoes by the door. 

There was a pad of paper on her desk, and he wrote her a quick message: 

_Best sleep I’ve had in awhile. Thanks. I went back home to rest a little more, but feel free to call me if you need_ _anything. _ _\- Munkustrap_

He thought for a second, then added, _P.S. You steal the blankets._

Munkustrap crept down the stairs, trying not to wake anyone. He had almost made it to the front door when someone said, “Good morning.” 

He jumped and spun around. Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks were sitting on the couch, watching him. Both of them were grinning. 

“We didn’t do anything!” Munkustrap blurted out, then immediately cringed. 

Their grins grew wider. 

Jennyanydots said, “Munkustrap, you know that Demeter and Bombalurina are very important to me. In a way, I think of them as surrogate daughters.” 

“That’s really nice, Jenny.” He was so tired. He wanted to go home and take a nap. 

“They’ve been through a lot in their life,” Jennyanydots continued sternly. “So God knows they don’t need another problem on their plate.” 

“Okay?” Munkustrap couldn’t figure out why she was telling him this -- but suddenly, it clicked. Her serious words and the way Skimbleshanks was laughing at him made much more sense. “Wait. Jenny, are you giving me the ‘don’t hurt her or I’ll kill you’ speech?” 

Her guilty expression confirmed his suspicions. “Well…” 

“I can’t believe this!” In truth, Munkustrap was touched that she would warn him on Demeter’s behalf. But if the two of them were going to mess with him, he was going to play along. “You’ve known me since I was born and you really think that I would break her heart?” 

“I’m just covering my bases,” Jennyanydots said defensively.

Skimbleshanks was clearly enjoying himself. He said, “And I don’t know this young lady that well, but I’ve found it’s best to do what Jenny says.” 

“Believe me, I know.” Munkustrap asked, “Was there anything else or can I go home? Is there a shotgun you two are hiding in the back that you want to threaten me with, maybe?” 

Jenny said, “Don’t be disrespectful. I meant what I said, Munkustrap. You won’t hurt her, or I’ll make your life a living hell.” 

He sobered. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Munkustrap was halfway out the door when Skimble called, “Nice pants, lad.” 

That comment made Munkustrap realize that he was still wearing the sweatpants Demeter had given him. Too tired to go back and change, Munkustrap sighed heavily and decided that he would give them back to her another time. 

Skimbleshanks’ and Jenny’s quiet laughter followed him out. 

When Munkustrap got home, Alonzo was watching cartoons on a low volume while Cassandra napped in his lap. 

“Hey, man. Nice pants.” 

“Why do people keep saying that?” Munkustrap complained. He looked down, and said, “Oh.” 

He must not have looked closely at the pants last night, or maybe it had been too dark for him to make out the words printed on them, because Munkustrap was just now discovering why everyone kept commenting on his pants. The words JUICY JUICY JUICY were running up his left leg, while the words FRUIT FRUIT FRUIT were emblazoned on the right side. 

“How’s Demeter doing?” Alonzo asked, chuckling. 

“Okay.” Munkustrap joined his roommates on the couch, carefully shifting Cassandra’s legs out of the way so as not to wake her. “Last night was rough, but she’s resting now.” 

“You need to take it easy for the next few days, too. I gave Bailey’s phone number to Demeter in case something else happens while I’m away, but I think I’m gonna write it down for you as well.” 

“That sounds good.” On the television, an animated bulldog was adopting a tiny kitten. “What are you watching?” 

Alonzo said, “I have no idea. It really tugs at your heartstrings, though.” 

“Huh.” They watched in silence for a few minutes, during which Munkustrap sunk more deeply into the couch. “I might take a nap, too.” 

In her sleep, Cassandra kicked him as she tried to stretch out, then settled for resting her feet on his lap. They had been roommates long enough that her somnolent form of affection wasn’t strange anymore. Munkustrap closed his eyes. 

If Alonzo responded, Munkustrap didn’t hear him, but he did feel someone settle a blanket over him. The quiet music from the cartoon filtered in through his dreams. Soon he couldn’t tell whether he was sleeping or awake, and accepted the fog of exhaustion that rolled over him nonetheless. 

Although he tried to follow the doctor’s (and Alonzo’s) orders and take it easy for the next couple days, Munkustrap soon found himself bored and went back to work. 

He had talked to Demeter a little bit, here and there, just texting each other to check in. She was also taking time off of work, since she wanted to give it a few more days before going back to the coffee shop. 

Tumblebrutus came by to say hello one afternoon when Munkustrap was in the store, sending emails. The younger man looked as though he had something to say, so Munkustrap waved him into the office. “What’s going on?” 

“Not much. Uh, I’m just here because my mom needs groceries but I wanted to ask you… is Demeter okay?” 

Munkustrap looked up, surprised. “I think so. Why are you asking me? You live with her.” 

“I know that,” Tumblebrutus said. “But I didn’t know if it was something we were allowed to talk about or not. Bombalurina seemed pretty upset when she heard, and then Victoria was saying something to Jemima about the police?” 

“Oh.” On one hand, it wasn’t his story to tell. On the other hand, Tumblebrutus looked truly worried. “Why don’t you come in and sit down?” 

Gratefully, Tumblebrutus sat. “Demeter did ask me and Pouncival to stay with Jem or Bombalurina if they were working a shift by themselves, and especially a closing shift. But I haven’t seen her much, besides that.” 

“That’s a smart idea. Yeah, this weekend was… tough, so I think she’s mostly been recovering from that experience.” 

“That’s what I figured,” Tumblebrutus said. “But I thought if anyone knew whether something was seriously wrong, it would be you.” 

Touched, Munkustrap smiled at the boy. “I think that unless one of the girls says something specifically to us, we should try to trust them that they’re handling it as best as they know how.” 

“I guess so. But you didn’t see her that night, Munkustrap.” Tumblebrutus looked at his lap. 

“Who, Demeter?” 

“No. Bombalurina.” 

“Oh.” For some reason, he hadn’t expected that answer. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” 

“Okay.” Tumblebrutus screwed his face up, trying to think. “Well, after Tugger called her, Electra and I were arguing pretty loudly. Bombalurina yelled at us, and then she sat down and started crying.” 

“I bet that was unexpected.” Even though Munkustrap could believe it -- he had seen how upset she was on that night, after all -- the idea of Bombalurina crying filled him with an initial bout of surprise because of how strong and carefree she seemed. But he was growing to realize that she had cultivated that image very carefully, and that Demeter was the one subject where she wasn’t able to hide her emotions. “Then what happened?” 

“Well, Electra got scared and she started getting upset too. So Jemima took her downstairs to see Skimbleshanks and to try to calm her down. I didn’t really know what to do, but I got Bombalurina her favorite blanket, the yellow fuzzy one, and put it around her. Then Mom shooed me out of the room, so I don’t know what they talked about after that.” 

Slowly, Munkustrap said, “I think --” 

“Oh, and then I almost forgot,” Tumblebrutus interrupted, “That today George and I got her favorite kind of ice cream and left it for her. And we, um, we didn’t know Demeter’s favorite kind so we just got her vanilla. Sorry, what were you going to say?” 

Munkustrap surveyed the younger man in front of him, and realized with a strange mixture of pride and sadness that sometime in the last five years, Tumblebrutus had grown up. He said, “I think you did everything right -- at least, you’ve done all you can for them right now.” 

Tumblebrutus shrugged, as uncomfortable with praise now as he had been all his life. “Thanks. I just wanted to check in.” 

But Munkustrap wasn’t ready to let the matter drop. “I’m proud of you, Tumblebrutus. Somehow, you’ve actually become a functional human being.” 

He grinned. “Yeah, I am! After this year I’ll have finished my degree, and Asparagus already has a job lined up for me if I want it.” 

“Do you?” 

“I think so. I like working with my hands, and I like being able to help people and fixing their things.” 

“That’s really awesome.” Munkustrap glanced at the email draft he had been working on. “Are you feeling a little better now?” 

“Definitely,” Tumblebrutus said. “Thanks, Munkustrap. Hey, I’ll see you at the talent show, right?” 

“For sure, if I don’t see you before then.” 

“Cool. Has Mistoffelees told you anything about his act?” 

“No,” Munkustrap said. “He’s really keeping it under wraps.” 

Tumblebrutus grinned. “Yeah, we haven’t been able to get anything out of him either. I’m excited, it should be good.” 

Demeter came over two days later. When he opened the door to her, she smiled and put a cautious hand on his cheekbone. 

“You look so much better. Your nose isn’t as swollen anymore -- how are you feeling?” 

“Much better. How about you?” 

“I’m okay.” Demeter shrugged. “Went back to work the other day. It’s been… fine, I guess. I haven’t been able to take the trash out to the dumpster, though.” 

Munkustrap had wondered whether something like that would cause her trouble. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Yeah. But it’s my shop, though, so I’m not going to let this thing beat me.” 

“Good for you.” 

She requested a high five, which he reached out for, grateful for any invitation to touch her. They missed, terribly. 

Demeter laughed. “What was that? That was awful!” 

“Hey -- no, you weren’t looking! You got distracted!” It probably had been his fault, but he teased her anyway. 

“Lies and slander,” Demeter said. “Let’s try again. Ready?” 

This time, their hands connected as they were meant to. 

Munkustrap grinned. “One more time for good measure?” 

Demeter nodded. “I think we need all the practice we can get.” 

They succeeded again at the high five and stood there for a moment longer, smiling at each other like fools. 

“Two out of three,” Munkustrap said. “Not bad.” 

Demeter winked at him, then looked around the apartment. “Are your roommates not here?” 

“No, they’re visiting Cassandra’s family for the Islamic New Year. They’ll be back for the talent show, though. Cassandra agreed to be Mistoffelees’ assistant, which is a relief.” 

“Yeah, I remember that he was having trouble finding someone. I’m glad it all worked out.” She sat down on the couch. “What do you want to do while we wait?” 

Demeter had sent him her takeout order half an hour before she arrived so that Munkustrap could order in advance, but they still had ten minutes or so to kill. He pulled out a deck of cards and she nodded. 

Luckily, it wasn’t too long before the food came, and Demeter looked through the paper bag, setting the dishes on the table and announcing each of them. 

“Chicken with broccoli, this is yours, right? And a thing of egg rolls.” 

Munkustrap looked up. “Did we order that?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you? Apparently the restaurant won their lawsuit against Growltiger’s Pizza.” Demeter looked up at him and laughed. Her eyes sparkled. “So they’re giving out free egg rolls in celebration.” 

Munkustrap walked over to the table and kissed her. 

He hadn’t planned it, but there was something about the easy joy in her face that made him want to wrap his arms around her here in the kitchen with the sunlight blazing in through the window and the sigh of the dishwasher in the background. Something about the way she went up on her toes to meet him halfway and the way she rested her palm on the back of his neck that made him want to keep kissing her for a week straight without ever feeling the need to come up for air.

“Well, if I knew that free egg rolls got you that excited, I would have tried that weeks ago,” Demeter murmured against his mouth, and he laughed. 

She smiled at him. Her cheeks were flushed. 

“Oh my God, you’re so pretty,” Munkustrap blurted out. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” 

Demeter drew back from him slightly. The look on her face was unreadable. 

He began to panic. You weren’t supposed to only call girls pretty, he knew that much at least. “I mean, you’re not just pretty. You are, you’re beautiful, but you’re also brave and funny and kind --” 

“Munkustrap?” Demeter interrupted. 

“Yep?” 

Breathlessly, she said, “Kiss me again.” 

He obeyed. 

By the time they got around to eating the food they had ordered, it was cold. But neither of them minded. 

The Jellicle talent show was a town-wide event hosted by the Parks and Recreation department at the park, although it was always a struggle to reserve the space before the very aggressive members of the youth baseball league got to it. Munkustrap had gone to enough of these events when Old Deuteronomy was mayor, but this year his father was relaxing in the audience and was only here to support Mistoffelees and their other friends who were performing. 

Tugger ambled on stage for a mic check, testing his announcer’s voice as much as the volume of the mics. He rattled off some of the names of the acts, a couple random numbers and words, then began to make conversation with those audience members who had already arrived. 

Jennyanydots’ household arrived in two cars, with Tumblebrutus helping Jemima lug her amp and bass guitar out of the trunk and over towards the rest of her band. In the area where the rest of the performers were waiting, Munkustrap could see Tugger giving Mistoffelees an exuberant pep talk. 

Demeter and Bombalurina found empty seats next to Munkustrap and Victoria, the latter of which was waving a homemade sign she had created to support her brother. 

“That looks really good!” Demeter complimented the sign. 

Bombalurina nodded in agreement, although she also muttered, “That’s a lot of glitter.” 

Once Munkustrap had signed her message to Victoria, his sister’s face broke out into a wide smile. 

“Thanks!” Victoria said, with Munkustrap interpreting for her. “Misto is last in the program but I thought I would practice my sign-holding now. I want to make sure he can see it but it doesn’t block anyone else’s view.” 

“You’ll do great, babe,” Plato said. “And so will he.” 

Before long, the audience was full. Their anticipatory murmurs carried over to where the performers were waiting. Some looked excited, some looked scared, but they huddled together as Tugger finished his speech of encouragement and bounded out on stage.

“Hello, Jellicle!” Tugger boomed out into his mic. “Thank you all for being here! We’ve got a lot of great acts for you tonight, but we’re going to start the show with a group who needs no introduction. Please put your hands together for Jemima and the Sunflowers!” 

The audience clapped, and Skimbleshanks cheered loudly as Jemima’s band took the stage. 

In between the second and third acts, Demeter slipped her hand into Munkustrap’s. The people around them noticed, and Old Deuteronomy beamed. Munkustrap waited for Demeter to pull away, but she only held onto him more tightly. He smiled to himself. 

They were still holding hands by the time the last act rolled around. Mistoffelees and Cassandra took the stage. 

Munkustrap held his breath and prayed, _Please let it go well._

Victoria waved her sign in the air. 

The only thing Tugger said was, “The Magical Mister Mistoffelees!” before giving Misto a thumbs-up and exiting the stage. 

Mistoffelees looked a little sick, but he gulped and raised his arms. 

The magic show began in silence and ended in thunderous applause. 

As members of the town’s Parks department and bored volunteers began to set out drinks and light grills for a barbecue, Mistoffelees came bouncing out of the backstage area and gave Old Deuteronomy a bear hug. Cassandra patted the young magician on the head and accepted her own congratulations from the gathered friends, as well as a bouquet of roses Alonzo handed her. 

Skimbleshanks was the one who noticed first that Grizabella had joined them. He tapped Jenny’s shoulder and drew her attention to the newcomer. A hush began to fall over the cluster of people as Jennyanydots grabbed Pouncival’s and Tumblebrutus’ arms and put herself in front of the boys. 

Grizabella addressed Mistoffelees. “I, I saw your show. You have real talent.” 

Mistoffelees looked at the adults around him. He opened his mouth as if to respond, but suddenly found Coricopat and Tantomile on either side of him, watching Grizabella as though warning her not to come any closer. Misto dropped his eyes and looked away. 

The old woman swept her gaze over the group. Pleading and contempt warred on her features. 

Jemima said softly, “It’s good to see you, Grizabella.” 

Grizabella turned around, and stared at the young woman in surprise. 

Something in the air changed. Instead of trying to menace Grizabella away from the more impressionable members of the community, it felt as though everyone was holding their breath and waiting to see what would happen. 

Victoria had been standing near the back of the group, waiting for her brother to emerge from backstage. Now, though, she unlinked her arm from Electra’s and began to take slow, sure steps forward. 

Jellylorum reached out for Victoria, but the younger girl ignored her. Desperately, Jellylorum turned to Old Deuteronomy and hissed, “Stop her, she doesn’t know what she’s doing --” 

“She knows,” Old Deuteronomy said calmly. 

Jellylorum dropped her arm, abashed. 

Grizabella froze as Victoria came closer. At the last second, her hope was almost too much for her to bear, and she closed her eyes. 

Gently, Victoria picked up Grizabella’s hands and pressed them between her own, in the same way she had done to Demeter and Bombalurina when they had first met. She smiled at Grizabella. 

The community let out their breath. 

Grizabella smiled back at the young woman before her. She swallowed with some difficulty. 

Victoria turned around, not letting go of Grizabella’s hands, and searched until she found Plato in the crowd. He stepped forward to meet her and Victoria passed Grizabella’s hands over to him. Plato spoke softly to Grizabella and beckoned Jemima over. 

Jemima gave Grizabella a hug, then looked expectantly at Jennyanydots. Jenny sighed and rested her hand on Grizabella’s shoulder as she guided her deeper into the circle, prompting more adults to come up and accept the old woman back into the fold. 

Not everyone was able to put the decades of prejudice behind them. Jellylorum shook Grizabella’s hand only briefly and looked relieved when George claimed Grizabella’s attention. When it was her turn, shy Electra hid behind Tugger, who stood like a stoic shield between her and the newcomer. 

Grizabella smiled at Demeter as she came closer to her, and Demeter accepted her gladly. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Grizabella said quietly. She looked at Munkustrap. “I’m glad to see that you’re not unconscious anymore.” 

Munkustrap frowned. “How did you know…?” 

They reached the conclusion at the same time, and Demeter’s eyes filled with tears. It took her a few tries to speak around the lump in her throat. “It was you. You called the cops that night.” 

Bombalurina took a shaky breath and reached out to embrace Grizabella. 

“I don’t understand,” Munkustrap said. There was a sharp, guilty pain in his chest. “Why didn’t you tell us it was you? We could’ve…” _Told the others. Accepted you sooner._

Grizabella smiled and shrugged. “It wasn’t about me.” 

He didn’t know if he had ever heard her say that before. 

When Bombalurina released Grizabella from the hug, Munkustrap pondered his options. There was still a bubble of resentment in his chest that rose whenever he looked at Grizabella, and he had the feeling that it would take a lot of work to make it go away. Giving her a hug the way Bombalurina had seemed like too much, too soon, but shaking hands felt too formal for the woman who had helped raise him. 

The others noticed his hesitation and waited to see what he would do. He didn’t want them to rescind their acceptance of Grizabella, so Munkustrap pushed down his reluctance and copied Victoria’s motion by taking both of Grizabella’s hands in his. 

Old Deuteronomy was the last one left. He kissed Grizabella’s cheek politely and said, “Welcome home.” 

She nodded, overcome with emotion. 

Demeter leaned into Munkustrap’s side, watching the scene before her with a nostalgic smile. He put his arm around her. 

“Are we eating or what?” Pouncival asked his father quietly. Unfortunately, in the reverent silence that had accompanied Grizabella, his voice carried and was met with a ripple of laughter. 

Asparagus clapped his son on the back. “Let’s eat, Pounce. Lead the way.” 

From there, it wasn’t long before people had fragmented off into different groups. Jellylorum pulled out Tupperware containers of food, saying under her breath that she didn’t trust the burgers that members of the Parks department were grilling up. 

The older members of the community were taking part in a rousing game of cards. From all of the yelling, it was clear to everyone within earshot that Jennyanydots was winning by a large margin, and was lording it over the rest of her friends. 

The kids had set up a baseball game in an area relatively free of people, and soon children and teenagers from other families were wandering over to join teams. At Tumblebrutus’ encouragement, Asparagus was pitching and Alonzo appointed himself the catcher. Etcetera got into an argument with Cassandra over the placement of the bases which ended in the definitive statement “Because I’m the ump and I said so” from Cassandra. 

Jemima linked her arms through Mungojerrie’s and Rumpleteazer’s, urging, “Come on! He’s not scary, I promise!” 

She led them over to Skimbleshanks, who was helping himself to some of Jellylorum’s macaroni salad. “Skimble! I’ve brought you two more people to adopt!” 

Skimbleshanks looked at the twins. “And who might you be?” 

“Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer,” Mungojerrie said. 

“Well, alright then.” He took in the choppy haircuts, Rumpleteazer’s bitten nails. “Pop a seat. Would you like some macaroni salad?” 

With her mission accomplished, Jemima skipped away to join Victoria, Old Deuteronomy, and Grizabella. 

At another table, Coricopat and Tantomile were teaching Mistoffelees and Electra how to read palms. A crowd of onlookers had gathered, and the twins were simultaneously carrying on a conversation with Mistoffelees and promoting their store to interested people in the crowd. 

Tugger found his way over to Bombalurina and put a casual arm around her shoulders. 

She raised her eyebrows but didn’t brush him away. “Nice job today. I wouldn’t have thought that you would be able to announce all the acts without stealing the spotlight for yourself.” 

“Please,” he scoffed. “I’m a professional. I would never steal anyone’s spotlight.” 

Bombalurina laughed. “Sure.” 

“So, Bomba…” Tugger swayed them to the beat of the music blaring from large speakers at the edge of the stage. “You and I both know that we’re the hottest people here.” 

She conceded his point with a dip of her head. “And?” 

“Well, it seems like a shame to let all of that go to waste.” 

“Tugger, are you propositioning me?” 

He winked three times. “What do you say?” 

“Uh… I don’t know,” she admitted. It was the truth. “Honestly, I kind of like what we have going now. But you’re right that we have a lot of history together. Good history, mostly. Very experimental history.” 

Tugger snorted. “Is that what they’re calling it now?” 

“Can I think about it?” Bombalurina asked, ignoring his muttered comment. 

“Yeah, that’s cool.” He drew back a little bit, getting ready to leave, but she called him back. 

“No matter what happens,” Bombalurina said, “I like us as friends. I want to keep that.” 

Tugger smiled widely. “Bomba, we are always going to be friends. You have my word.” 

She held out her little finger and he wrapped his own around hers. The pinky swear turned into a contest of which of them could squeeze harder. Tugger ended up forfeiting and walked away, dramatically massaging his hand. The sound of Bomba’s laughter followed him as he went. 

“Excuse me for a second,” Munkustrap told Demeter, and jogged after his brother. He caught up to Tugger as he sprawled onto a lawn chair and said, “Hey.” 

“Hey, man. Pull up a chair.” 

“I just wanted to check in,” Munkustrap said as he sat. “And see how you’re feeling about everything.” 

As one, they glanced over at Grizabella. 

“It’s a little weird,” Tugger sighed. “I kind of wish Victoria hadn’t… whatever.” 

Munkustrap lowered his voice. “If it makes any difference, I really think she has changed. Or she’s trying to change, maybe.” 

“Maybe. And I don’t begrudge you for accepting her, you know. Circumstances are different now with the Macavity thing. Hell, even I’m glad that Mo-- Grizabella was there to call the cops before something even worse happened.” 

“Do you think you’ll ever want to reach out to her?” Munkustrap asked. 

Tugger looked around nervously. “There’s just so many people here who would be watching us, and it would be awkward… I might be open to the idea if it were just us.” 

“Something like the two of you getting lunch together?” 

“Or a family dinner. I would want you to be there, I think.” 

Munkustrap smiled. “Well, you don’t have to decide anything right now. But if you want to set that up, I’ll be there for you.” 

“Thanks.” Tugger elbowed Munkustrap casually in the arm. “I’m proud of you too. You hate change, but in this summer alone you finally started working at the store, got in a fistfight and lost horribly, forgave Grizabella, and got a girlfriend. It almost makes you seem cool.” 

“Usually I’m the one who says this stuff. Are you gunning for my position as the oldest brother?” 

“Maybe,” Tugger grinned. “George did say that I’m his favorite.” 

“What?” Munkustrap frowned. “No, he didn’t. Did he?” 

“Come on, oldest brother,” Tugger said, laughing. “I’ll get you a beer.” 

Demeter stood on the grassy hill, watching the town of Jellicle spread out before her, laughing and mingling. If someone had told her four months ago that this was where she would end up, she wouldn’t have believed them. Her heart was very full, but she no longer felt like she was drowning from it, instead buoyed along by the love she had found here. 

Bombalurina joined her. “Hey! What are you doing over here by yourself?” 

Demeter smiled at her sister. “Nothing. Just people-watching.” 

“Oh, okay. Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah. I was just thinking and being emotional.” 

“Well, everyone’s looking for you. The kids want to know if you’re going to take part in the beanbag tournament they’re setting up.” 

Jennyanydots looked up from her card game to find them. She waved and held her winning hand up in the air for Demeter to see. 

Munkustrap followed Jenny’s gaze and smiled at Demeter. She smiled back. 

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Demeter said. 

She took Bombalurina’s hand, and they went to join their family. 

A few weeks later, a car emerged from the early morning mist and pulled up to _Roasted Memories._ Two people got out and made their way into the coffee shop. 

“Took you long enough,” Bombalurina greeted them, but she was grinning. 

Demeter joined her behind the counter to start preparing for the work day. Munkustrap took a seat at one of the little tables and dug around in his bag until he found a book. 

When it was time for him to leave, he waved goodbye to Bombalurina, balancing his bag and his coffee on his way out the door. Demeter walked him out and kissed him swiftly in the doorway before ducking back inside. 

Munkustrap whistled as he drove to work. 

Smiling fondly, Demeter watched him drive off. She checked her watch, then flipped over the sign on the coffee shop door. They were open. The day had begun. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! There will be three chapters total, which should be up once a week (or sooner if I get impatient). If you liked this fic, please leave a comment or come say hi to me on tumblr!


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